


Against the Dying of the Light

by daphnerunning



Series: Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright [2]
Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after Kaburagi Kotetsu and the escaped slave Yuri Petrov started the Revolution, Sternbild is now a city of Free NEXT, but the scars of decades of oppression and violence are slow to heal and slower to fade. Between a city who wants him as Mayor, a daughter who wants his undivided attention, and a strange new developing relationship with Yuri, Kotetsu has little time to spare. But when an army shows up on his doorstep, all the rules have changed.</p><p>Because someone within Sternbild may not be quite as loyal as he seems...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wise Men at Their End

Kotetsu’s muscles strained, against the heavy weight, bulged under his clothing, and he let out a long groan. It would be so easy to activate his powers, to send the weights flying away in a hail of metal discs.

“I can see you thinking about using your powers. Don’t you dare. That completely destroys any effectiveness of weight training.” 

Kotetsu snarled, then heaved the weight up towards the ceiling, lowering it with a sigh of relief. “Twenty-five,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of one wrist. “There.”

He heard a snort from behind him, and shot a glare over his shoulder. Before he could say anything, Keith clapped him on the thigh with a broad hand. “Well done! You’ve become a great deal stronger. I’m impressed by your dedication.”

Kotetsu tossed the weight onto the rack, then started stretching. There wasn’t much room in the little attic, but it was the closest thing to a gym he felt comfortable using. There was too much unrest, uncertainty in the city to trust himself in public without being on his full guard. “There isn’t time for this,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “What does it matter what I can bench-press when I have my powers?”

“Because a hundred times a hundred is a lot more than a hundred times twenty,” Yuri drawled from behind him, leaning against the wall. “It’s simple math.”

In unison, three communicators beeped. A teenage girl’s face winked into existence above their wrists, looking calm but urgent. “Sir? We’ve got another squadron of planes coming in. I could use a lift.”

Kotetsu looked at Yuri, then nodded. “Keith’s on his way, Pao-Lin. Get your suit on.”

“Already taken care of.” Now that she mentioned it, he noticed the stretchy green collar that served as the top of her flight suit. It was made of rubber especially for her, designed to let Keith carry her in the air during lightning blasts and not get electrocuted himself.

“And try to shoot them down over the ocean this time. If I get one more letter from the Sternbild Homeowner’s Association about property damages--”

“—we’ll be out a Homeowner’s Association,” Yuri said under his breath. Keith laughed, and Kotetsu glared at both of them.

“Will do, boss. Flaming wreckage over ocean only.”

Kotetsu nodded to Keith as soon as Pao-Lin disappeared. “You heard the girl. Be careful.”

Keith gave him a cheerful grin. “I will keep Pao-Lin safe at any cost.”

“Keep yourself safe, too.”

The young man sketched out a quick salute, then vanished through the doorway. Not a minute later, Kotetsu heard his jet pack thrum to life, and saw a pinpoint prick of light soar into the night sky over Sternbild. Keith and Pao-Lin, in his arms, rode the currents of wind up to meet the oncoming fleet of bomber planes before they had a chance to unleash their deadly torrent upon the city.

“We should give them a chance to surrender,” Kotetsu said, eyes glued to the window. 

“They had one. Before they agreed to drop bombs on innocents.”

Kotetsu’s stomach tightened as the first plane exploded. He hadn’t even seen the arc of lightning shoot out from Pao-Lin’s hand, but he knew the look of the aftermath. Yuri looked at the planes and saw weapons of war being used against the Free Next of Sternbild. Kotetsu couldn’t help but see the little figure in the cockpit; maybe he’d signed on to impress a girl, or to get his college debts paid for. Maybe he had a wife at home. Absently, Kotetsu ran his thumb over the band around his ring finger. “That’s not what I mean. Everyone deserves—“

“Don’t say a second chance.” Yuri’s voice was mocking, dismissive. 

“Why not?”

“You don’t know how many they’ve had. Some of these could have tried this before. Some of them were probably with the military we kicked out last year. They probably all own slaves. How many chances should they get?”

Kotetsu gave him a faint smile. “How about, ‘everyone deserves _another_ chance?’”

“You are such an idealist.”

“And you aren’t? Wasn’t this what you wanted?” Kotetsu demanded, waving at the city lights out the window, at the little balls of flame plummeting to sizzle into the ocean. 

“I wanted to free the NEXT. You want everyone to be happy and healthy and live in harmony.”

Kotetsu’s face flushed, and he looked away from the window. “Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“It’s a naïve thing.” Yuri leaned one shoulder against the wall, eyes fixed on Kotetsu. “Whenever there’s an imbalance of power, it must be corrected. NEXT are stronger than regular humans. Humans tried to correct that imbalance by enslaving us. Now, they’re the ones who are slaves.”

“Don’t say that! They’re not slaves. They’re not being oppressed, no matter what that stupid newspaper says.”

Yuri brushed a long pale strand of hair behind his ear, face unreadable. “Of course not. It’s not as they don’t deserve to be, though. Not after what they put us through for so long.”

 Sometimes, Kotetsu was afraid to ask what the other man did when he wasn’t around. _Are some of those rumors right, Yuri? Are some of those former slave owners disappearing into the ocean, with the planes and bombs?_

 __

He couldn’t ask. He was afraid of the answer.

He took a deep breath, trying to wall up the anger. After a second, he asked, “How do you do that? Make me so angry, so fast?” _Why do I let you get to me?_

 __

“Why, Kotetsu, it almost sounds like you care about me.”

Kotetsu wanted to protest that he _did_ care about Yuri, of _course_ he cared  and that to even ask after everything they’d been through was infuriating. Then he saw the smirk, and bit off the retort. “You’re trying to make me angry.”

Yuri said, coolly challenging, “Maybe I am. Why do you make it so easy?”

Kotetsu’s eyes flashed. He grabbed Yuri by the front of his shirt, holding him fast. “What’s wrong with you today? You’ve done nothing but snipe at me since I got up this morning. Did I do something? Is this about the Council? The General? What? If I’ve done something wrong, just _tell_ me!”

Yuri, usually so calm and composed, looked startled. He grabbed Kotetsu’s wrist, fingers tightening, and for an insane second Kotetsu got the feeling that something _big_ was about to happen.

“Dad!” The pounding at the door broke through the moment, and it dissolved into unrealized potential. 

Suddenly feeling very tired, Kotetsu opened the door. Kaede, a brand new yellow ribbon in her hair, gave him a wave and a smile. “Your alarm went off. You have a council meeting.”

“Oh, right. Thanks, sweetie.” He reached down to ruffle her hair, but she ducked quickly.

“Dad, I just finished my hair!”

“Oh? And where are you going that’s so important your old dad can’t even touch your hair?”

“Nowhere!” she insisted, but a flush crept over her cheeks. She stepped far to the side to let him pass down the stairs.

He wanted to press, but Yuri leaned up to his ear. “It’s a boy,” he said, just loud enough that Kaede would be sure to overhear. Yuri’s breath was hot against his ear, always was, as if the other man was heated from within by his own internal furnace. “With preteen girls, it’s _always_ a boy.”

“It totally isn’t!”

“How would you know?” Kotetsu asked, trying to make a joke out of it, but Yuri refused to rise to the bait. It was hard to tell when he’d be in a joking mood, even after a year’s worth of knowing him.

Yuri checked his watch, then sighed. “I’ll have to meet you there. I’ve left something at home.”

“See you there.” Kotetsu wasn’t looking forward to it. First, because the council was always the most boring part of his day. Second, because Yuri was always different when other people were around. It was as if he were putting on a mask, pretending to be someone only Kotetsu knew he wasn’t.

It infuriated him. 

Yuri fluttered his fingers in a little wave, both at Kaede and Kotetsu. 

“And you, Mr. Mayor.”

 

***

 

The stack of paper in front of him swayed. Kotetsu was pretty sure they didn’t do that until they were officially “too big.” He could see over it to the rest of the Council, but just barely.

He waved to the side, and Etienne scurried forward. “Yes, Mr. Mayor?”

“Can you do something about this?” Kotetsu asked, hoping he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt. “I’ll never be able to go through all of this before the meeting.”

Etienne hesitated. He was a skinny, dark-haired man, one of the first NEXT to enter the city after the Revolution. He was that awkward stage of young where he was as tall as he was going to get, but not all of his body parts had finished growing at the same rate. He was also the most natural clerk Kotetsu had ever met. He _lived_ for filing papers, compiling strings of numbers, and filtering memos. “Of course, Mr. Mayor. But I only came in to tell you the rest of the Council is in the outer room. They’re waiting for me to let them in.”

 _Don’t put your head in your hands and groan. That’s not Mayorly. Mayorish. Mayorlike. Mayoral! That’s it. Not Mayoral. Not that I’d know what Mayoral was if it hit me in the face with a hundred pounds times a hundred,_ he thought sourly. 

The Council filed in one by one. Among them were Agnes Joubert, a news mogul that kept them apprised of public relations disasters about to happen; Miki Tadeo, head of the Sternbild Fair Labor Corporation; Sue Mansell, the only politician to survive the Revolution with her seat intact, the head of Immigration Authority. There were a few public figures that changed so fast Kotetsu never bothered to learn their names, as well as a smattering of the NEXT that had fought in the Revolution. Ivan was there, indrawn and quiet in his chair. Karina sat next to him, long nails clicking against the table as she arranged the sheets of her report. From the Scientific Research Division, three scientists, two men and a woman. Lastly, Yuri entered, sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Kotetsu blundered through the tasks of calling everyone to order, relying on Etienne to run the meeting quietly in his ear whenever he got it wrong. _“No, sir, now you ask me to read the minutes from yesterday. Sir, excuse me, it’s time for new complaints. No, sir, we can’t skip this part.”_ Etienne was very thorough.

“Any new reports?” Kotetsu asked, daring Etienne to tell him he was wrong.

Ivan raised his hand. “Sir. I’ve compiled all the information we have on Tritus and General MacMillan. The agents I’ve talked to say that his troops started moving last night. They’ll be here in less than a month.”

“How many?” Kotetsu didn’t acknowledge the gasps of shock and horror around the table. 

“Fifty thousand humans. And…”

“And what?”

“A thousand NEXT slaves. They’re being forced to fight.”

Kotetsu was sure he was the only person to see the light blaze from Yuri’s eyes, all the way across the table. Then again, he was probably the only one looking for it. Everyone else was yelling, waving arms, insulting General MacMillan to within an inch of his life.

Kotetsu bit his lip to keep from swearing. “Why so many? That’s got to be every NEXT in America, or close to it.”

Ivan, of everyone in the room, was quiet, steady. “I heard MacMillan’s offering a lot of tax breaks for NEXT owners who donate their property to the war effort.”

“Why won’t they just let us be?” Karina asked, fingers clutching the table until they turned pale. “We’re not attacking anyone else. We’re just one city.”

“Because we’re important.” Kotetsu looked around the room, holding the gaze of every person in turn. “We’re not just a city, we’re Sternbild. This is the greatest city in the country, the world, and we’re full of free NEXT living together with humans. More NEXT come here every day, and it doesn’t take a military genius to see where that…uh…”

“Where that road will lead, sir,” Etienne prompted close to his ear. 

“Right! It doesn’t take a military genius to see where that road is going to lead.”

“Where’s that?” asked one of the scientists, looking like he wanted to laugh. 

Kotetsu held Barnaby’s gaze for a second longer than he held anyone else’s. Every time he saw the younger man, he willed him to _remember me, remember me._

 __

Barnaby never did.

“That road leads here,” he said, at another cue from Etienne. “Pretty soon, all the NEXT who can run away, or the ones who’ve been living in secret, are going to make their ways here. And…what was the other thing? Right, thanks. The other thing is that people like General MacMillan know how powerful we are. He knows we could take Tritus apart with just a few of us. He knows that Keith and Pao-Lin are up there in the sky every night, taking out his planes faster than he can build them.”

“Not to mention,” Yuri cut in, “that the NEXT who can and do escape tend to be the most powerful classes. Soon we’ll have a miniature civilization here run completely by the strongest NEXT in the world. There won’t be an army standing that could last against us.”

 _I hate it when you talk like you want more blood on this city’s hands. I hate it when you look at everyone but me._

 __

Kotetsu sighed. “Thank you, Ivan. Karina? How are the new recruits?”

Karina looked down at her papers, gripping them hard so they wouldn’t flutter out of her trembling hands. Kotetsu had told her she could send a deputy, but she’d refused. No matter how frightening it was for her to have all those eyes on her, she insisted on making the reports herself. “T-t-two hundred all total,” she said, staring at the paper and nothing else. “Ten Class-H, including those in this room. Five who arrived in the last few days and haven’t been assigned a ranking yet. Vast majority are Class-A or Class-B.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Etienne said under his breath, low enough that only Kotetsu could hear him. Etienne was a Class-B, wielding the semi-reliable power to make his hands very sticky, front and back.

“Thank you, Karina. Now,” he said, standing up and walking slowly around the table, “before we start talking about the amazing new suits Mr. and Mrs. Brooks have developed for high-velocity NEXT, I just have one thing to say.”

“Yes?” Mrs. Brooks looked slightly unnerved, as she always did around him. Her eyes shot between Kotetsu and her son. _Good lord, she probably thinks she’s being subtle._

 __

He tapped her lightly on the head. “Duck.”

He tapped her husband lightly on the head. “Duck.”

He tapped Agnes Joubert lightly on the head. “Goose.”

There was a bright flash of blue-white light. Everyone turned to look at Agnes, who blushed horribly. “I—I’m sorry!”

“What are you doing here? I told you before—“

“No one ever tells me anything!” Kaede wailed. “If I didn’t sneak in I wouldn’t ever know what’s happening, anywhere! How did you know it was me?”

“Agnes is never that quiet, and I know for a fact that she’s ill today. Besides, you didn’t want me to touch your hair earlier. How long have you been copying Ivan’s power?” he asked sternly, folding his arms over his chest.

“Since last night,” she confessed, and hung her head.

“Go.”

“But Dad—“

“Go, Kaede. This isn’t the place for you.”

“Pao-Lin gets to come and she’s only three years older than me!”

Pao-Lin hated council meetings with a passion, and only attended under duress. Actually, the only person Kotetsu knew who didn’t openly hate the council meetings was Yuri. “Go, Kaede,” he said, gentle but firm.

She went. He had to stop her from trying to “accidentally” brush against Ivan again on the way out.

The politicians especially teased him about that through the rest of the evening, asking how many of the council members were eleven-year-old girls, how late he let Ms. Joubert stay up past her bedtime. Kotetsu let them tease him. Kaede loved sneaking in where there were secrets being told, even if they weren’t suitable for her to hear. _Especially_ if they weren’t suitable for her to hear, Kotetsu admitted to himself.  

What worried him was that through every report, through every assessment, even seeing Kaede change in front of his eyes, Ivan never reacted to anything.

 


	2. Know Dark is Right

Ivan rubbed at his eyes, then shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. The nights were getting colder. The temperature change wasn’t as dramatic within the newly-constructed walls of Sternbild as it was out in the country, though. He’d been wading through knee-deep snow for weeks. It had been easier just to shapeshift into someone with long, skinny legs than it had to save the energy and make it through by himself.

He was always by himself, these days.

He took the long way home, circling around the block once or twice. He didn’t bother to hide anymore. When he was wearing his own face, everyone knew who he was. 

There was a woman waiting in front of his door. Before he reached her, he took a long look, careful not to walk too fast. She was tall, leggy, curvy, the kind of blonde that was always so popular in Ivan’s homeland. She was also dressed to perfectly accent her perfect body, and stood like she knew someone was watching her. 

Ivan made no secret about putting a hand on the hilt of his gun. 

The woman turned to him as if surprised he was there, though he’d have bet his life’s savings she wasn’t. “Oh, Mr. Karelin. I’ve been waiting for you.” She had more than a faint trace of a Russian accent—near St. Petersburg, if he remembered correctly.

He didn’t respond. She’d get to the point soon enough, if he let her talk. Silence confused people. He’d learned a lot about things like that over the past year.

She smiled, and her teeth were as white as her lips were painted red. “I understand you have some influence with the Council, is that right?”

He stood impassively, neither confirming nor denying—nor taking his hand off the gun. There were too many spies and traitors these days. 

“Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Vera Nikolovna. I’m a NEXT, like you.”

“What’s your power?”

She hesitated.

Ivan moved to push past her. “If you don’t have anything to say to me—“

“I’m sorry. I’m just so used to keeping it a secret, you know?”

Vera’s neck and wrists were unmarked. “You’ve never been enslaved.”

“I’m good at hiding.” 

“Or you’re not really a NEXT.”

“It’s a stupid, useless power. A little embarrassing, to be honest.”

He put his free hand on the doorknob.

“Wait, okay. But don’t judge me on this, all right?” She took a deep breath, then let it out. Amid a faint glow, her fingernails detached themselves and clattered to the ground. New nails grew instantly, and the woman’s mouth twisted in disgust. “There. I’m a NEXT. A really useless one with a really silly power. Happy?”

“Can you do that with all your body parts?”

She flushed, fair skin showing the blood rush easily. “I can do it with my hands and feet, or any part of them. Look, can I just talk to you for a couple minutes inside? It’s cold out here.”

Try as he might, Ivan couldn’t think of a way “detachable feet” could be a dangerous weapon. “Fine. Just a couple minutes.”

Ivan lived on the second floor of a brownstone. The downstairs neighbors were a large Armenian family, none of whom spoke a single word of English, and the upstairs was vacant. He fumbled for his keys, cursing the fact that it was just as cold in the stairwell as it was outside. 

His apartment barely qualified as “livable” by most standards. There was a bed, a mirror, a toilet, a sink, and a weapons case. Apart from that, it was pretty much empty. There were other rooms, but Ivan didn’t bother going in them. He sat cross-legged on the bed, never relaxing. “What do you want?”

Vera looked around for a chair and, finding none, sat next to him on the bed. “I want an introduction.”

“To who?”

“Kaburagi Kotetsu. I hear he’s the man to talk to if you want to get things done in this city.”

He was. No one really knew how Kotetsu had found himself as the city’s top brass—least of all Kotetsu himself. It wasn’t the first time someone had approached Ivan for an introduction, either. “He’s a busy man.”

She crooked one eyebrow, her mouth curving. “I’m sure I could make it worth his while. And yours, for that matter.”

“What are you trying to do?”

She sighed, her bosom heaving in a practiced sort of way. “I’ve only just arrived in Sternbild today, and I promised I would test the waters for some friends of mine.”

Ivan didn’t react to the sigh or the bosom. “You mean you want a batch of passports for humans.”

“Mr. Karelin, these are not just any humans, they are my friends.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the city’s stance on issuing passports these days.”

Vera knew how to pout very prettily. “But surely, with the support of a man on the Council, channels will move more quickly, yes?”

They would. The woman had done her homework. And she was smart to try and appeal directly to Kotetsu. The man had a soft spot larger than his hard spots, much to the chagrin of many who knew him. Kotetsu was probably the only Council member who wouldn’t turn her automatically away. “Yes,” he admitted. “Look, just because you ask nicely and you sound like home doesn’t mean—“

Vera sealed her lips to his, arching _just so_ to press the tips of her breasts against Ivan’s chest. She was soft to the touch, tasted like cigarettes and a faint hint of alcohol and lipstick.

Ivan pushed her away so hard she fell off the bed, one of her high heels flying across the room. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t. I don’t want you. I won’t give you passports for sex.”

Anger blazed in Vera’s eyes as she straightened up. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you were such a blushing virgin.”

“Do I look like I’m blushing?” he said quietly, fiercely. He could remember wearing a dress like that, learning to walk in heels like that. 

 

 _“Yeah, but make the breasts bigger. And make the dress red this time._ ” 

 _The man palmed himself through his jeans, leering unabashedly. Ivan was a lot less scared that the man would tell his secret, a lot less scared about what was about to happen, than of what would happen if Edward found out._

 _  
_

__

Every person who’d ever discovered his secret had wanted someone different. Ivan was no stranger to trading his body for safety. He’d never been on this end of the exchange, though.

She looked him up and down, then shrugged. “Fine. The offer’s on the table.”

“Get out. Take the offer with you.”

“I thought this might happen. Wait, Mr. Karelin, that was just a starting bid! At least hear my real offer.”

Ivan rose, opened the door for her, and waited pointedly. 

“I can give you Edward Keddy back.”


	3. Wild Men Who Caught and Sang the Sun in Flight

Kotetsu’s fist ached a little as he pounded on the door, but he paid no attention. “Hey!” he yelled at the door, kicking it this time. “I’m talking to you! Let me in!”

Some people walking by probably recognized him as the Mayor. He didn’t care. He pounded on the door again, with one fist and one elbow. “Heeeey! Let me in. It’s kinda cold out here, you know? I know you’re iiiin theeeere…”

“And how exactly do you know that?” said an amused voice from behind him.

Kotetsu spun, a little unsteadily. There was Yuri, looking perfectly poised, totally calm, hair perfectly tucked into a ribbon as usual. “There you are,” Kotetsu said, lurching towards him, trying not to spill too much. “You’re supposed to be inside. I’ve been knocking.”

“I’ve been out. Would you like to come in?” Yuri unlocked the door and ushered him inside, flipping half of his six or seven locks when the door was shut. 

“You got a lot of locks.”

“I’ve had a lot of enemies. I’ve rarely had a door, so it’s something of a luxury. Tell me, is there a particular reason you’ve shown up at my house in the middle of the night smelling like cheap booze?”

Kotetsu set the bottle down on the coffee table with exaggerated care. “Not cheap. Just booze.”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “I’m going to make tea.”

“I don’t want any tea.”

“I didn’t offer you any.”

“See?” Kotetsu yelled, throwing out his arm dramatically. “You!”

“Me?”

“You’re always so…so fucking _cool_. You weren’t like that when I first met you.”

“Kotetsu, you’re drunk.”

He knew he was. But damned if he was going to admit it to Yuri. “Well, you should get drunk sometimes. Make you a little less damned _perfect_.”

Yuri switched on the stove, put the kettle on, then sat Kotetsu firmly down on the couch. “Kotetsu. As your friend—“

Kotetsu knocked away his hand. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Touch you?”

“Don’t call yourself my friend!”  Kotetsu stood up, probably too fast, and paced around the room like a wild animal. “Yeah, you fought next to me, and yeah, I care about you, but that doesn’t make you my friend.”

“What does that make me, then?” Yuri asked, still facing the spot where Kotetsu had been sitting.

Kotetsu ran a hand through his hair, trying to focus. “A fucking robot! You used to care about shit, Yuri. You used to get pissed off, or get protective, or give a real fucking smile. You used to fucking _feel_ things. Now you just…you make sarcastic comments. You’re snide. You don’t ever _really_ smile. You just give that stupid little smirk, the one you give _everyone_.”

“Is that what’s really getting to you?” Yuri didn’t move, still stared at the couch arm. 

“What?”

“That I’m treating you like I treat everyone. That’s what you said, isn’t it?”

“Maybe it is! Maybe I want—“

“You want me to treat you like you’re special?”

That light, mocking tone cut through Kotetsu’s pride, drove him insane. He lunged for Yuri, jumping over the coffee table and tackling him down to the couch. Yuri let out a confused grunt, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. For a second, there was something dark and untamed in Yuri’s eyes, and little pilot flames flickered to life.

“Yesss,” Kotetsu hissed, and pressed Yuri down harder. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing, not sure why he _needed_ this so much, needed to drive Yuri crazy, make him lose control, needed to press him down into the couch. He just knew that he liked it when Yuri was moving under him, when there was life in those cool blue eyes.

“What are you doing?” Yuri snarled, trying to push him away. “Kotetsu—“

Kotetsu’s hand fisted in Yuri’s hair, and it was just as silky as Kotetsu had always imagined. He was just a breath away from Yuri now, just a hairsbreadth from finally, _finally_ kissing that infuriating smirk off his infuriating lips—

Except he saw the look in Yuri’s eyes.

The fear.

The movement underneath him wasn’t excitement, it was terror.

Kotetsu scrambled off of him so fast he didn’t stop until he was halfway across the room. Yuri’s chest heaved up and down as he lay flat on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

The pleasant heat of the drink drained away, replaced by a lump of cold, sober shame in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to say something to make it right, but no words came to mind, not even close. Awkward, he shuffled to the door, hoping he could make an escape before he had to face Yuri.

A jet of blue-green fire streaked to the door in front of him, hot enough to steal the breath from his lungs. 

“If you try to leave,” Yuri said, with more emotion than Kotetsu had heard from him in months, “I will kill you right now. You know I could.”

Yuri said that a lot, back when they first met. He’d stopped saying it so much lately, which had somehow only pissed Kotetsu off more. 

He straightened up, facing the door, and his eyes were blazing. In a heartbeat, he was standing in front of Kotetsu—then pressing _him_ back into the door, hard enough that he could feel every rivet through his shirt. Yuri was slender, but the muscle he had was lean and strong. He leaned closer, and this time it was Kotetsu who flinched away.

Yuri paused, hands on Kotetsu’s shoulders, body pressed flush against the other man’s. “What?” he asked, barely-controlled. “Are you afraid of me? Is this not what you wanted?”

“Your eyes,” Kotetsu gasped out, feeling the heat against his face. 

“Can’t stop them. Not now.” Yuri shut his eyes, then pressed his lips to Kotetsu’s. 

Everything slowed down, the way it did when he activated his Hundred Power. Yuri’s lips were demanding, hungry; Kotetsu felt every brush of the other man’s tongue, every tiny nibble of his teeth, every moaning sigh, as if in slow motion. 

Yuri pulled away after what felt like an eternity, his eyes still closed. When he spoke his voice was harsh, uneven. “If you want to leave, do it now. Otherwise, don’t expect to leave for a while.”

Some part of his mind that was still sluggish with drink and stress protested that this was all wrong. This wasn’t the soft curves of a woman’s body, the slow fumbling seduction and gentle words of love that were, until now, Kotetsu’s only experience with sex.

 _Good._

 __

Deliberately, Kotetsu reached over and flipped the last lock on the door. It was a deadbolt, and clicked shut with a satisfying sound.

The next thing he felt was Yuri yanking down his pants, his underwear, to pool around his ankles. “W-wait,” he stammered. “I—“

“What?” Yuri settled himself on his knees. “Do you not want this? I gave you a chance to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave, I just—you were scared before.”

Yuri’s mouth curved up into a smile, a real smile, not his obnoxious little smirk. “You surprised me. But as far as fear goes, I’m more worried about you.”

“Me? Why?” 

“Have you done this before?”

Kotetsu scowled down at him, acutely aware that he was naked from the waist down. “I do have a daughter, you know.”

“I meant with a man.”

Kotetsu’s lips pulled away from his teeth in a feral grin. “I’m more worried about you,” he said, echoing Yuri’s words. “I’m not sure you’ll be able to keep up.”

Challenge flickered in Yuri’s eyes, and he had to shut them to keep in the flames. Then he leaned forward, making an eager sound deep in his throat.

Kotetsu decided right then and there that he wasn’t going to compare Yuri to Tomoe, wasn’t even going to think of them in competition, because there was no way _anyone_ could compete with Yuri in this. He bobbed his head down, sealing his lips around the head of Kotetsu’s cock, and all the older man could do was moan. 

That talented tongue swirled around the head, delicately probed the slit, and Kotetsu’s hand tangled in Yuri’s hair. He pulled out the ribbon, tossing it on the floor. He had to force himself not to thrust up into that perfect wet heat. Besides, he wanted to see how Yuri would do it.

The heat was back in his abdomen, pooling lower and lower, and Kotetsu was dead sure he’d never been so hard in his life. There should have been a law against the noises—little slurps, happy murmurs, sighing breaths—that Yuri was making around his cock, because every time Kotetsu heard them, he got so hard it hurt. 

 _Focus, Kaburagi Kotetsu. Don’t embarrass yourself._

 __

But it was so difficult to remember not to come right away like a teenager when he _felt_ like a teenager, like he hadn’t had sex all his life, like he would die if he didn’t get more of that gorgeous mouth—oh god, _deep-throating_ —down on his cock. 

Yuri’s hands came up to his hips, holding them in place, and only then did Kotetsu realize he’d started thrusting after all. “S-sorr—oh god, oh god, please don’t stop.”

Yuri took him all, letting him slide down his throat. There was a hot tickling sensation, and Kotetsu realized in shock that Yuri had just licked his balls. 

While sucking his cock.

Kotetsu’s head cracked against the door as he threw his head back, but he didn’t even notice. He cried out helplessly, holding onto Yuri’s hair like a lifeline to the world, spilling his seed deep inside the other man’s throat.

He sank down, sliding down the door, legs unable to support his weight. Yuri let him slip out of his mouth, then looked up at Kotetsu. “You’d better not be done.”

“You…” Kotetsu mumbled, and it was about all he could manage. He wasn’t sure he’d ever come that hard in his life, and knew for a fact that he hadn’t in the last several years. “That…”

That damned smirk. Oh, well. Kotetsu could forgive him this time, since he’d kindly turned Kotetsu into jelly.

Yuri snorted, wiping the corners of his mouth with a delicate scrape of his fingernail. “You’re worried if I can keep up? On your feet, Kotetsu.” 

Without preamble, Yuri stood up, grabbed Kotetsu by the arm, and draped the older man over his shoulders.

The next thing Kotetsu knew, he was hitting Yuri’s bed. “I’m not a bride, you know,” he objected.

“If you were, I’d have been gentle.” 

Kotetsu stopped objecting, because Yuri taking off his clothes was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. The first time he’d seen Yuri naked, he’d been stunned at the scars covering his body. This time, all he could think about was how much he wanted to _touch_. Hurriedly, he stripped off his own shirt, just as Yuri climbed on the bed and covered his body with his own.

After such a mind-blowing beginning, Kotetsu had thought they were going to take it slow, maybe rub against each other, maybe reciprocate what Yuri had given him. 

Instead, Yuri flipped him over onto his stomach and pressed up against his back. “Tell me you want me, Kotetsu.”

Kotetsu could feel Yuri’s cock press hard against him. He knew he should be panicking, that it should feel weird and wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. “I want you.”

“Nnnh, Kotetsu,” Yuri panted, and Kotetsu had never heard him sound like that before. “I want to be inside of you.”

If Kotetsu had considered positions before coming over—something he certainly hadn’t done, no matter how drunk he’d been—he’d have imagined himself on top. Yet when Yuri said it in that hoarse, pleading tone, it was all Kotetsu could do not to submit like a dog, head down and legs spread. “Y-yes,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “I want it.”

Yuri’s cock pressed against him, then pulled away. “Fuck, I almost forgot. Fuck. Almost hurt you.” 

The weight of him left the bed, and Kotetsu looked around in confusion. Yuri rooted through a box under the bed, finally emerging with a little blue bottle. For the first time, Kotetsu started to get nervous. “Ah…what’s that?”

“Lubricant. So it doesn’t hurt you.”

“Erm…” Kotetsu dropped his gaze to Yuri’s cock. All of a sudden, it looked _very_ big. “I’m not sure…”

“Let me get you ready. If you hate it, I’ll stop.” Yuri leaned down and kissed him fiercely, as if it were the last kiss that would ever matter. 

Kotetsu returned it, just as hard. It was so different from kissing Tomo—from kissing a woman, he corrected himself just in time. It was a battle, and he wrapped his legs around Yuri, rolling them over so the other man was on his back. He traced his fingers down the silvery web of scars that made up Yuri’s back, the burn marks around his wrists, grabbed the smooth flesh of his ass. He moved his mouth down and kissed, sucked, bit Yuri’s neck along the old scars from his collar. “Want you,” he breathed into Yuri’s shoulder. He was half-expecting Yuri to make fun of him for his little display of dominance.

Yuri didn’t. He just lay there, arching up against Kotetsu, straining always for more contact. Kotetsu steeled himself to be really gay, and reached for Yuri’s cock.

In retrospect, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected. He didn’t suddenly start wanting to listen to showtunes, or wanting to dress like his old friend Nathan. The only thing that changed was that his hand was on Yuri’s cock, slick and heavy with blood, so hard Kotetsu was sure it was painful. He wrapped his hand around it, found it not too much different from his own, and started to stroke. 

“Stop it.” Yuri swatted his hand away.

“Sorry. Was that bad? I haven’t—“

“I don’t want to come in your hand. I want to fuck you.”

Kotetsu hadn’t had two erections in a night since he was in his twenties. He had his second one now. “O-okay. How…what do I…”

“Hands and knees, legs apart. No, not like that, you moron.” There was a grin in Yuri’s voice as he arranged Kotetsu on the bed. “There. Now relax.”

“Relax what?”

“Try to relax everything. I’m going to put a finger in you.”

It felt...different. Yuri’s finger, slick with lubricant, teased carefully around his hole, then slipped in to the first knuckle.

Kotetsu took a deep breath, then let it out. _Okay. Okay. I can handle this. Yeah, okay, I can do this, I think._

 __

“Are you aware you’re speaking out loud?”

“Huh?”

Yuri took advantage of his momentary distraction, sliding his finger in the rest of the way. Kotetsu clenched, tried to unclench, and failed. “I…” he didn’t know how to put into words that this gradual stretching, the way they were taking it slow, felt strange and artificial. “Yuri,” he whispered instead. “I don’t want that. I want you.”

“Whose finger do you think this is?” Yuri said, and slid another one inside. 

Something strange happened when he did. Kotetsu, expecting to feel more discomfort, maybe even some pain, suddenly shuddered. Pleasure rippled through him, making the hairs on his arms stand on end, making his cock throb and pulse between his legs. He let out a noise, spread his legs, pushed back on those fingers.

Yuri sucked in a breath. 

Kotetsu closed his eyes, mouth dropping slightly open. “Yuri.”

“Y-yeah? Fuck, do you know how hot you are right now?”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Kotetsu growled. “Don’t tease me. Just fuck me.”

Yuri’s voice was a little shaky as he asked, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Do I have to flip you over and ride you? Put it in me already!” Inside, Kotetsu felt a surge of satisfaction. He could make Yuri pant, make him twitch and writhe, make him come undone.

All those thoughts went out the window as Yuri pressed into him.

Kotetsu let out a strangled cry, his back arching. He was pretty sure it was supposed to hurt—pretty sure it did, in a way—but he had no idea it was supposed to feel so good. Sparks went off in his hands, his knees, his chest, everywhere he had _skin_ , and _god_ Yuri felt huge inside of him. Not that he had anything to compare it to, not in that area, but it felt like liquid, volcanic heat spreading through him with every slow, aching thrust.

Yuri’s hair brushed over Kotetsu’s back, another sensation that made him shiver. He wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking himself in time to Yuri’s thrusts. 

Yuri leaned down and nipped at the place where Kotetsu’s neck met his shoulder. “Tell me you like it.”

“I love it. God, I love it, more, please.” _Full, so full, full of him, yes._

 __

Yuri’s fingernails dug into his hips, pulling him back as his hips snapped forward, giving him more, too much, and Kotetsu felt like a madman, an animal.

“Tell me you want me,” Yuri said in his ear.

“I want you.”

Yuri shifted the angle slightly, adjusting for his bad leg, and struck something inside Kotetsu that made him see stars. He screamed out, thrusting back for more, desperate to feel that way again.

Yuri panted into his ear, the ragged breathing of a man beyond all control. “Fuck, I’m only finding that now? The way you’re acting, I thought…”

“M-more! Please!”

“ _Kotetsu_!”

Yuri’s hands raked down over Kotetsu’s chest, and he slammed deep inside him again and again, thrusting over that spot every time. Kotetsu, only half-aware that he’d continued stroking his cock, cried out hoarsely as he came for the second time.

Then Yuri’s hands were everywhere. They touched every part of him, from his legs to his ass to his chest to his face, running down his arms, sliding over his too-sensitive cock. Kotetsu became dimly aware that Yuri was sucking on his neck again, harder this time.

Yuri choked out something unintelligible when he came, buried deep inside Kotetsu, clinging to him for all he was worth. He thrust wildly a few more times, sweat-slicked bodies quivering together in ecstasy, before slowly, carefully withdrawing to lie panting next to Kotetsu. Kotetsu turned onto his back when his knees gave out at last.

They lay there, breathing the same air, staring up at the ceiling. 

After several minutes, when his heart rate had returned to something like normal, Kotetsu remarked, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your ceiling before.”

Yuri laughed. “I doubt many people have.”

“So. You don’t do that often, you mean?”

“With you? That was the first time.”

Kotetsu tried to give him a slap on the arm, but couldn’t manage more than letting his hand sort of flop over towards the other man. “I meant in general. Bring men back here.”

“No. Not often.”

 _Not often isn’t the same as never_.

“So,” Kotetsu said again, trying not to picture other men in his position. “That…” He gave up the sentence, unable to think of an ending.

“You liked it more than I thought you would.”

“Why’s that?”

Yuri shrugged. “You don’t sleep with men. If I liked something that much, I’d do it all the time.”

Kotetsu sighed. “I don’t sleep with anyone. You’re only the second person I’ve ever been with.”

Yuri sat up on one elbow, staring at him. “You must be joking.”

“Nope. Just you and Tomoe.” _Forgive me, Tomoe. I meant to die with only the taste of you on my lips. I hope you don’t mind too much._ The wedding ring felt heavy on his finger.

“Huh. Well.” Yuri was silent for a moment. Then, he said, “I hope you don’t think my number is similarly meager.”

Kotetsu growled. “I thought I fucked the fancy words out of you.”

“Not hard enough, it seems. Maybe next time I’ll let you try.” There—that was what Kotetsu had been looking for. Life, interest, delight without fire in Yuri’s eyes. He hadn’t even known what he was looking for. 

Now he knew.

He started to slip into sleep, face buried in Yuri’s hair, when a sudden thought hit him like cold water. “Kaede!”

Yuri blinked. “Is she here?” He yawned, totally unconcerned. 

“What? No. I just have to be home.”

“You got drunk and came over to harass me when you were supposed to be with your daughter?” Despite the words, Yuri didn’t sound anything but amused. 

Kotetsu scowled, yanking on his clothes. His pants felt oddly tight, until he realized they were Yuri’s. He shucked them, then went in search of his own. “No! She was supposed to be at the orphanage until ten.”

Maybe if he didn’t look at the clock, he thought wildly, he wouldn’t be late. 

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

Kotetsu cursed. “Can’t I put any of my own clothes on?” Bending felt strange. He felt soreness, twinging, in muscles that he didn’t remember ever using before. Once dressed, he hesitated by the door. “I, uh…”

“Go.” Yuri waved a hand, stretching out on his bed in a way that made Kotetsu want to rip off his own clothes and do it all again. “I don’t really go in for all the small talk afterward. I’ll see you in Council.”

Kotetsu was pretty sure that if Yuri had said something like that to him the day before, an hour before, he’d have been furious. Now he’d seen Yuri without the mask, seen him come unglued in Kotetsu’s arms.

As he shut the front door, he heard the forlorn whistle of the teapot on the stove.


	4. And You, My Father

Nervously, Kaede adjusted her yellow ribbon. She hadn’t been lying, _exactly_ , when she said that it wasn’t a boy she got dressed up for. Maybe he didn’t look at her too often at the orphanage, but that was okay, because she didn’t know what to say when he did. Once, he asked her if she wanted a snack. She’d nearly fainted.

It wasn’t even that he was cute, although he certainly was. He was also the only Class-H except Kaede under the age of thirteen, and Kaede figured that was a pretty good starting point for a relationship. She didn’t have to be worried that if they held hands she’d get stuck as a human magnet again, or with super-powerful smell. That had sounded like a cool one until she realized just how close to a toilet, to a sewer, everyone in the city was at all times. 

 _I should just confess to him and get it out of the way. No, that’s stupid, Dad won’t let me date until I’m older anyway. But we could keep it a secret, maybe? Then I’d have to lie to Dad…better not. Besides, what if he says no? Oh my gosh, that would be the worst thing._

 __

She took her time in the bathroom, straightening her ribbon, wishing her dad would let her buy makeup. Not a lot of makeup, just lip gloss like the rest of the girls wore.

“Hey, uh, Pao-Lin?”

Kaede pressed her ear to the door. That was Tony’s voice, and she felt her heart beating faster. 

“Hmm?” 

“I, uh, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to play videogames with me later,” Tony said.

Kaede’s heart sank. 

“I’m going up to fight the planes again later. And remember, the city walls aren’t gonna move themselves without your help.”

“Yeah, right, I know—“

“Besides, I don’t really play games. If you want to train tomorrow morning, you can do that with me.”

Kaede heard Tony agree, but he didn’t sound happy about it.  

She pressed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. Dad had told her that listening at doors would tell her things she didn’t want to know. She hadn’t listened.

“Kaede? Daddy’s here! I, uh, don’t think I’m too late, am I?”

Kaede burst out from behind the door, catching her dad in a fierce hug around the waist. “Let’s go home,” she said, words muffled into his shirt. 

“Yeah, okay. Honey, you’re holding me really tigh—ow! Careful!”

Her father activated his Hundred Power, and only then did Kaede become conscious of the fact that she was glowing. She pulled back, guilt written all over her face. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I was just upset.” She was better at controlling her power now, but it was so easy to forget when she was with her Dad. 

“It’s okay, because it’s me. Just be careful with other people.” Her Dad put an arm around her, leading her out the front door. Then he grinned. “Race you home?”

Kaede’s eyes lit up. He hadn’t felt like racing her for weeks. “Okay! You’re going down, old man!”

“This old man’s still got some tricks left in him,” he assured her. 

Kaede took pleasure in watching his jaw drop as she raced off, bounding a few stories high, kicking off buildings, using street lamps as vaulting poles. Her Dad was a blue speck on the edge of her vision, taking his preferred route. Kaede’s breath caught in exhilaration. Nothing could compare to darting around the city like fireflies, the laws of universe bending to her will—and her dad there with her, laughing, encouraging. 

Kaede took the upper route, easily scaling skyscrapers. Maybe Tony did like Pao-Lin. It had seemed like the end of the world through the orphanage door, but Kaede could do _anything_. 

“Kaede!” her Dad called, dashing along the ground beneath her, “don’t forget to check your time! Two minutes left!”

She opened her mouth to respond that _yes,_ Dad, she knew her limits, but lost the words in a gasp. “ _Dad_!” she screamed, coming back down to the ground in a rush. “Dad, there’s—outside the walls, there’s an army, a whole army, with tanks and everything!”

If her father had panicked, Kaede probably would have started crying. Instead, he smiled, then took her in his arms. “It’s all right. We’re ready. Come on, it’s time to be inside. Nothing good happens this late at night.”


	5. Crying How Bright

The door opened, but not until Ivan had been knocking for several minutes. “What are you still doing inside?” he demanded without preamble as soon as Yuri showed up in the door. “You were supposed to be at my place an hour ago.”

Yuri smoothed back his hair. He was missing his usual ribbon, and looked…if it had been anyone else he’d have looked normal. On Yuri, the look was positively disheveled. “I had company. What are you so worked up about? Surely you can go a night without this.”

“Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

 _Because she’s a liar. Because things like what she promised don’t exist._ “I just can’t. I need it.”

Yuri sighed. He sounded so elegant sometimes that it was easy to forget he’d spent the majority of his life as a slave. “Fine. Let me get my coat.”

He shut the door in Ivan’s face. Ivan jammed his hands into his pockets. He didn’t even smoke, and he felt like he could use a cigarette. _His fault, for standing me up. He knows I don’t like to be alone on nights like this._

 __

He didn’t like to be alone ever, but he was getting used to it.

 _“I can give you Edward Keddy back.”_

 __

 _No you can’t, you manipulative fucking bitch. That’s what dead means._

 __

 _“I know a NEXT with the power to bring him back.”_

 __

Bullshit. An obvious lie. He’d told her to shut her mouth, to leave and never contact him again.

 _“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you really didn’t care about him.”_

 __

When he was young, Ivan had been told to never strike a woman. When he’d backhanded Vera and sent her down the stairs, he hadn’t even felt bad about it.

Then Yuri, damn him, had been late. That had given him too much time to think, to take a long shower so he could pretend the water running down his face was from the faucet, to think about how much easier life would be if he were some kind of addict. Then he could just drown the aching void with liquor or drugs instead of _feeling_ it all the time. 

They had all of them been through horrors. He knew why Karina wore long sleeves now, after the horrors she’d been put through, why she insisted on a soundproof bedroom, and wouldn’t let anyone touch her. He knew why Keith could never, ever be by himself, and why Pao-Lin had the eyes of a woman many times her age, and why Antonio drank himself stupid at least once a week.

And why he was waiting on Yuri’s doorstep.

Yuri finally emerged, hair severely pinned up under a dark knit cap, floor-length coat hiding the rest of his body. Ivan followed suit, shifting into a random passerby, adding a similar coat and hat. They walked in silence for several minutes, each of them with the destination in mind.

“Tell me about him.”

Yuri nodded. “Thirty-nine years old. Works in advertising, making about ninety thousand Stern a year. Had a wife, but she died without children, under mysterious circumstances.” He turned left, and Ivan followed. 

“For thirteen years, he ran a NEXT child-brothel, ages six to twelve. You want to hear any more?”

“Proof?”

“Tons. He even had an ad in the paper.”

“Why hasn’t he been convicted?”

Ivan could see Yuri’s teeth in the darkness. “I was saving him for this.”

That wasn’t the way they worked, usually. Most nights they went out, it was to find someone who had wriggled out of legal retaliation. Most nights, Ivan would have protested. “Okay.”

He was the bait, when they got close. It would have been so easy to destroy the man’s house, burn it with him inside, but that would have attracted attention. Neither of them was afraid of the law, but Yuri was very strict: Kotetsu was never to hear about their nighttime activities. 

So Ivan was a girl scout instead, looking up at the unshaven man around his beer gut, pleading that he only needed a few more dollars to win a bicycle.

Too easy.

He changed in the second the man opened the door, had the gun at his head before a single word was said. He could have done it himself, but that was messy. Kotetsu would have found out if people kept showing up shot in the head.

So instead they took the man (crying blubbery tears the whole way) down to his own basement. Yuri recited a list of his crimes that he’d memorized sometime earlier.

They listened to him scream.

Then, a few minutes later, Ivan swept up the ashes and dumped them in the garbage, careful not to touch anything.

“Another,” he whispered when they emerged into the night air once again. 

“That’s enough for tonight.”

“ _Another_ ,” Ivan insisted. “Come on, I know you have a longer list than that.”

 “Go home, Ivan. We’ve done enough for tonight.”

“Yuri, please, I need—“

“What? What is it about this you need, Ivan?”

 _I don’t want to go home. Not alone. Not tonight._ Without thinking, Ivan grabbed Yuri by the front of his coat and kissed him.

Yuri didn’t push him away. He just held still for a moment, then withdrew. “Ivan,” he said, and there was pity in his tone.

Ivan did what he did whenever it got to be too much. He changed, a woman this time. “You want this? I can be a woman if—“

“No. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what? I mean, who? Younger? Older?” Ivan changed again, again. Men, women, supermodels, actors, anyone he could think of. _Don’t push me away. Don’t leave me alone._ “Is it weird, what you want? I-I can do weird.”

Yuri’s eyes flashed. “Ivan, you’re talking like a whore. We NEXT don’t have to be that anymore. I know how tempting it is to go back to old ways, but I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Is it him?” Ivan asked it with Kotetsu’s voice, wearing his face.

Yuri froze still for a moment, staring at him as if in disbelief, and for a second Ivan thought he had a chance.  Then, the other man laughed. “You’ve got awful timing, my friend. Go _home_.”

Ivan changed back into himself. He should have known that changing into Kotetsu wouldn’t work, but it had been a last try. He didn’t even want Yuri, specifically; didn’t even _like_ Yuri all that much. But Yuri…he understood some of the things Ivan couldn’t tell anyone else. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, then ran off. Maybe a part of him was hoping Yuri would follow, but most of him knew he wouldn’t. This wasn’t Kotetsu or Keith, someone who would never let a friend feel lonely or abandoned. 

Overhead, a plane exploded in a frenzy of lightning, shrapnel raining down into the ocean. Ivan didn’t bother looking up. He would go out the next day to spy on MacMillan’s army, see if he could get close enough to assassinate the field commander. It was the kind of job that used to feel wrong, that made Kotetsu look guilty while he was assigning it. 

A lot could change in a year.

There was no one waiting in front of his building. Very seriously, Ivan considered going out to the first bar he could find, no matter what kind it was, and transforming into someone who would fit in. He’d thought about it for months, got as far as the front door of a seedy little dive once, but always chickened out at the last minute. It wasn’t about the sex; Ivan could go without that, had been going without for a long time now. Just the thought of being _close_ to someone again, being _touched_ , being _wanted_ …

A large wooden box sat on the door in front of his apartment. Ivan looked around, but there was no sound, no sign that anyone had been there except for the box. Just in case, Ivan drew his gun. It wouldn’t be the first attempt on his life, either from MacMillan’s forces or disgruntled former NEXT owners taking it out on a Class-H.

Strangely, the box wasn’t locked. Rather, there was a lock, but the key was inside. It was an old padlock, no microchip anywhere that Ivan could see, completely mundane iron. _If this is a bomb, they put a lot of effort into making it conspicuous. It’d have been easier to chuck one in through the window, like last summer._

 __

He’d tried to discourage the Armenian family from moving in downstairs for that exact reason. Just because no one had been killed the last time didn’t mean anyone was safe.

Ivan pressed his ear against the box, but couldn’t ear anything. He knew he should wait for backup, ask Antonio to open it with his powers activated, but he was feeling a heady mix of curiosity and recklessness. He turned the key, discarded the lock, and opened the box.

He hadn’t thought it was big enough to put a person inside. He was wrong. It certainly didn’t look comfortable, but the redhead curled into the fetal position didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were closed, but Ivan could hear the faint sounds of breath going through his lips.

Ivan staggered backward in shock, falling against his own door, sliding to the ground. It couldn’t be, could it? It was impossible, wasn’t it? 

It couldn’t be Edward.

Could it? 

There was a little scrap of paper clutched in the man’s hand. Ivan latched onto it as something he could understand amid his swirling, chaotic emotions, and unfolded it.

 

 _A gesture of good faith._

 __

 _\--Vera_

 __

Ivan’s hand shook as if Pao-Lin had shocked him. He reached down into the box and slowly, terrified that the other man would vanish every second, would turn out to be ice-cold, would open unrecognizable eyes, touched Edward’s cheek.

It was warm, soft, felt exactly how Ivan remembered, and Edward’s eyelids fluttered. A tiny frown creased his forehead, and he looked sideways up at Ivan. 

“Edward?” Ivan whispered, not trusting himself to speak.

“Hey.” Edward’s voice was rusty, but amused. “Ow. This is cramped. Can you get me out of here?”

Ivan’s heart beat too fast.

 _I saw you die._

 __

 _I held you._

 __

 _I felt your blood all over me._

 __

He fumbled with the box until he found the hinges, and popped the fastenings free without much difficulty. One wall of the box fell away, and Edward tumbled out. “Ow,” he said again, and his limbs twitched as he climbed slowly to his feet.

Ivan couldn’t stop staring. Now that Edward was standing, he could see that Edward was wearing the same clothes he had been the last day—they were even caked with rusty-brown dried blood. “Y-you…”

“Me?” Edward cracked his neck, then arched backward. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this yet, but _ow_. You miss me?”

“You can’t be you!”

“I can’t?” Edward shook out his hair, then tied it back, keeping his eyes on Ivan. “Why not? Whoa! What’s the gun for?”

Ivan gripped his pistol in both hands, not trusting his aim with only one. “Get inside,” he said, nodding to his apartment. 

Edward held up his hands, but he didn’t look frightened. “Yes, sir. You know, it’s usually a lot easier for you to get me into your place.” He lowered his voice, looking around. “Is this a thing? Do you need me to play along? Are we being watched?”

“Shut up.” _Stop sounding like him. You can’t be him. Things that good don’t happen._

 __

Edward nodded slowly. The way his smile slipped off told Ivan Edward was getting it, that he understood the situation was serious. It was an expression he’d seen so many times—

When Edward was alive.

“You’re dead.” Ivan kicked the door shut behind him. “You’re dead.”

Edward faced him, and it was _cheating_ to look so much like Edward. “Are you going to kill me, Ivan?”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

“Do you want to tell me why you should? What did I do? Ivan, this is me.”

“ _No it isn’t!”_

 __

Edward backed up a couple steps when Ivan screamed. “Okay, okay, whatever you say. Did someone get to you? In your head, I mean? I heard there was a slave in Sternbild who—“

“There are no slaves in Sternbild.”

Edward blinked. “What?”

 _He doesn’t know. Oh god, he doesn’t know what’s going on—does that mean he’s the real one, or does it mean he’s a fake? Does it mean—he’s so close to Edward, but that just can’t be real!_ “Prove it. Prove you’re Edward.”

Edward nodded. “Can I put my hands down first?”

“No.”

Edward rolled his eyes, but kept his hands up. “Fine. The usual code words? Pineapple sundae.”

“Jelly cream filling,” Ivan answered automatically.

“And a paper umbrella. That good enough?”

“No. More.”

Edward sighed, looking a little annoyed. “I don’t know what I did to make you so pissed off. Fine, fine. I’m going to knock on your door tomorrow.”

“Make sure to bring your key.”

“I made a copy. There, now would you put the gun down? I’m going to think you’re not happy to see me.”

“Use your power.”

Edward folded his arms, exasperated. “Ivan—“

Ivan cocked the gun. 

Edward raised his hands again. “Why?”

“So I’ll know you’re not a shapeshifter. Do it.”

“Whatever you want.” With a deep breath, Edward glowed blue. Sand swirled around his ankles, and he sank down halfway through the floor, only to rise back up.

Ivan stared. He’d never heard of a shapeshifter that could copy powers before—or that would know all the responses to their code phrases—but there was a first time for anything, right? Or maybe he’d just gone insane, and was seeing what he wanted to see. “You can’t be you.”

“All right, that’s enough.” Edward lowered his hands and deliberately walked towards Ivan. “If you’re going to shoot, shoot.”

“Stop. Don’t come any closer.” The gun felt heavy in his hands. He was sweating too much for a good grip.

“Ivan, I don’t know if you’re angry at me or someone got to you or what, but you’ve got to believe me.”

“I said stay back!” Edward was so close. The gun wavered.

Edward’s hands came up and gently, firmly wrapped around the gun. He took it from Ivan, released the clip, and tossed it to the side. “There. That’s better.” He took Ivan’s hand, interlacing their fingers, and smiled. “See? It’s me. Not a shapeshifter.”

“Prove it.” Ivan’s voice was little more than a whisper, and his face felt wet.

Edward leaned down and murmured in his ear, “Like I did when we were fifteen? When we rescued that couple from the farmhouse?”

Ivan nodded frantically. He could almost smell the sun-warmed hay, feel it tickling his neck. 

Edward was everything he remembered, and all the sweeter for the lack of him the past year. His hands were warm and strong, cupping Ivan’s face, holding him up, interlacing with Ivan’s. No one could have faked the way Edward touched him, Ivan was sure. 

“Just like back then, eh?” Edward said breathlessly, looking up to meet Ivan’s eyes. “Remember the first time I did this to you?”

Ivan groaned. “Y-yes.”

“You made the cutest noises. I think you liked having my tongue inside you.”

“E-Edward…” Of course he had. He’d always loved everything Edward did to him.

Edward made love to him thoroughly, systematically, removing every misgiving Ivan had. He was crying, he knew it, but he didn’t want to stop. Edward had never minded if he cried. Edward never wanted him to change into anyone else.

When Edward slid home deep inside him, Ivan felt like himself for the first time in a year. 

Edward held him afterward, just how Ivan liked it. He nuzzled into his side, gave his shoulder a soft bite. “What was with the paranoia show earlier? You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

Ivan stiffened. The last thing he wanted was to question this gift, not now when he actually felt like life was worth living again. But he’d seen too many movies, read too many books, watched too many TV shows to believe that miracles were possible. _This can’t be. You know it can’t._ “I…I…you’re dead.”

Edward chuckled, and Ivan felt the vibration against his side. “I don’t think I am.”

“But you are.”

“Ivan, what the hell are you talking about?”

Ivan wriggled in Edward’s arms to face him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

The redhead frowned, thinking it over. “I’m not going to say it wasn’t weird. We were at base camp, in our building. We’d just heard about that dangerous Class-H that escaped, the one Patient Zero sired, and I had a feeling the police would be raiding us soon.”

“You were right.” Ivan remembered everything about that day, the first time he’d met Yuri Petrov. 

“Yeah, I know, I was there. We heard the warning sirens, and you and I went out to reinforce the perimeter. You went to get the kids into the bunker, and I got the Class-D’s out of bed. We met up when we both went to resupply the ammo, and…did I get shot?”

Ivan nodded, his throat dry. 

“It hurt more than I thought it would. I…you were there, right? It’s kind of hazy.”

“I was there.” Edward in his arms. Trying desperately to stop the bleeding. Knowing he couldn’t. The brush of bloody fingers on his face. 

“I remember your face. Then…”

“Yes? What then?”

“I think I must have blacked out from the pain. Then when I woke up, the pain was gone. There were these kids near me, three of them, all weird-looking like they’d never been outside. One of them was touching the bullet hole, but it didn’t hurt. Then I felt a pinch, like a needle in the back of my neck, and…” He shrugged. “The next thing I remember was waking up in that box.”

“But you died. You didn’t pass out, you died.” Ivan didn’t want to say the words, but he had to. He couldn’t bear the idea of finding out later that it was all temporary, all a ruse.

“I—“

“Edward, I was _there._ You died in my arms. I checked for a pulse, and there was nothing. I—Edward, I _buried_ you.”

Now Edward looked a little unnerved. “Seriously? Why don’t I remember that?”

“Are you a zombie?”

Edward burst out laughing, taken completely by surprise. “Wouldn’t I be trying to eat your braaaaains?”

“Fine. Are you a ghost?”

“Wouldn’t I be a little less solid?”

Ivan ran through his list of movie monsters, searching for one that fit. “Vampire?”

Edward bared his teeth. “No fangs.”

“Clone?”

“How would I know? Oh, wait. Clones are recreated from DNA, right?”

“Yeah.” _Oh god, he’s a clone. He’s a clone and he’s going to eat live frogs and live for two weeks and they’ll be the best frog-tasting two weeks of my life._

 __

Edward pointed to the back of his shoulder, to an old scar he’d had covered with a tattoo. “They wouldn’t be able to replicate something like that, would they?”

“Angel?”

“That’s sweet. Do you think most angels would have ravished you like that?”

“Demon?”

“ _Ivan_. I’m me. And if I really were a demon, I wouldn’t tell you about it. And if I were a hallucination, you wouldn’t be so suspicious, because it would be your own mind telling you about it. Okay? So catch me up. We’re in Sternbild, right? But this isn’t your apartment.”

“It is now.”

“I think I know what your apartment looks like. Not like I’ve never been there before.”

Ivan’s eyes trailed down to the other man’s torso. The bullet had come in through his back, torn through Edward’s sternum on the way out. There was a scar there, but it was old, and small. “I’ve lived here for a couple months.”

“ _Months_? That’s impossible. I was only out for a few hours.”

“You died—“

“Was _knocked unconscious_ —“

“—a year ago.”

That shut Edward up. For the first time, he really took a look around. “This place is barren. You live here?”

“I don’t need much.” Ivan could see Edward comparing his apartment to the old one, where there had been pictures on the walls, a sofa, an entertainment center, a beanbag chair, houseplants, and throw rugs. Compared to that, this was a prison cell. “A year,” he repeated. “Earlier, you said there were no slaves in Sternbild.”

Ivan let out a breath, then snuggled into Edward’s arms. “We have a lot to catch up on.”


	6. Their Words Had Forked No Lightning

Kaede sat on the city wall, snug against Keith’s side. He’d tried to give her his jacket, but she opted to snuggle inside it while he was still wearing it. “That way we’ll both be warm,” she’d pointed out, and he’d agreed. 

“I’m supposed to be giving you a flying lesson.”

“I don’t want a flying lesson. Is my dad going to be okay?”

“Of course! Kotetsu is a very smart, lucky, capable person.”

Kaede wasn’t entirely sure that Keith knew what he was talking about, but the words were still reassuring. “You really believe in him, don’t you?”

“With all my heart.” Keith touched her under the chin, so she looked up at him. “I believe in you, too, Kaede.”

His hair had grown out considerably in the last year. He kept it trimmed to a few inches long, and Kaede thought it made him look like a movie star. He was one of the few NEXT she knew, aside from Yuri, who didn’t wear scarves or high collars to hide the marks on his neck. “Keith?”

“Hmm?”

“What happens if they win?”

“They’re not going to win.” He sounded so sure, so supremely confident in victory, that Kaede was glad she’d chosen him to ask.

“Yeah, but what if?”

Keith looked out at the massive army camped just outside the walls. The slave quarters were in front, in the greatest position of vulnerability, but the encampment stretched a couple miles at least. Halogen lights pierced the darkness in patches, illuminating tiny figures moving like ants. Wars weren’t fought like that often, not any more. Nowadays it was all lobbing bombs, fighter planes, stealth infiltration.

Except Sternbild had become the kind of place no one could infiltrate, no one could bomb, and no one could make a single successful pass with a plane. Kaede was proud of her city, and her friends. Still, that meant that an actual army had showed up in force. _All those people down there want to hurt me and my friends. Why? We’re not doing anything wrong._

 __

“If they win,” Keith said at last, “which they won’t, things will go back to the way they were. All the NEXT will be enslaved again. Those who started the rebellion will probably be executed as an example. It’s possible they’ll destroy the city.” He tightened his arm around Kaede. “But that won’t happen. We won’t let it.”

Keith’s communicator beeped. “Mr. Goodman? There are some people at the Eastern gate that say they have special passports and need to come in. Can you come down and authorize?”

“I’ll be right there. Hey Kaede, you want to show me you can make a soft landing? I’ll catch you if you mess it up.”

Kaede looked down. The wall was about eighty stories high, thanks to Tony’s manipulation of several buildings over the past year. Even with her Dad’s Hundred Power she wouldn’t want to jump off it.  But if Keith thought she could do it…

With a little scream that was half excitement, half fear, Kaede leapt off the top of the wall. She saw Keith follow behind her, and summoned all the wind power she could to try and make a soft landing.

It was easier than she’d expected. The winds rose to her command and carried her, whirling through the air, to the Eastern gate. Landing was a little trickier; she had to negotiate precise speed, which was the point of the lesson. She miscalculated a little and wound up hovering on a spinning ball of air, a few feet off the ground.

“Really well done! Good job, and good job again, Kaede! Just let it go.”

“I can’t. It doesn’t want to go away.”

“Wind likes to move. Just let a little bit of it spin the other way, and it’ll unravel.”

Keith made it sound so easy. Yet, with his coaching, it _was_ easy. Kaede’s feet hit the ground with as much force as jumping out of the back of a truck. “I did it!”

Keith gave her a hug. “And did it well! Now, about these people who want entrance.”

There were about a dozen people in the antechamber of the gate, all wearing dark clothes, none of whom looked friendly. Kaede shrank against Keith’s side, trusting in his warm strength. 

“They’ve all got passports,” the guard said, handing several little books over. “Properly signed and issued, and Ivan Karelin has vouched for them.”

Keith’s expression cleared at once. “Well, then! Welcome to the city, my friends. Any friend of Ivan’s is a friend of Sternbild!”

  _I hope he’s right._

 _  
_

__

*

 

Kotetsu slammed his hands down on the Council table, rising from his seat. “Unacceptable.”

“We can’t just let them continue to menace and threaten the citizens of Sternbild, _Mr_. _Mayor_.”

“They haven’t taken any hostile action, _Mr. Petrov_.”

“The very presence of an army at the Sternbild walls is a hostile action!”

“The matter has been raised, and the Council has made its decision! We aren’t going to attack people just for camping, and that’s the final word.”

“In that case, I might need to exert my authority as privy council interim head of Sternbild’s martial forces. Mr. Mayor.”

“Where’d you learn all that fancy lawyer talk?” Kotetsu demanded. “They teach you that in a refugee camp?”

He heard the other Council members gasp, but Yuri’s lips parted in a feral grin. “Not all of us have a vocabulary restricted to three-syllable words.”

“Why don’t you try and use that vocabulary on the army, huh? See where that gets you!”

“I would, but I think you’d classify that as a _hostile action_.”

“I just want us to think about other options!”

“It’s hard to think of other options when you’ve got my hands tied!”

 _\--push him against the wall kiss him senseless show you what it means when I’ve got your hands tied--_

 __

Kotetsu coughed, keenly aware of the heat creeping up the back of his neck. The other members of the Council were casting each other sidelong glances, looking discreetly down at papers, or—in the case of a certain research scientist—barely concealing grins.

“Mr. Mayor, sir?” Ivan spoke up in the pause, and his voice was louder, more certain than Kotetsu had heard it in a long time. “I have the report you wanted. I have two spies who managed to infiltrate MacMillan’s NEXT camp and are posing as slaves. I’ve already received detailed descriptions, including photographs, of the NEXT coordinator and the field commander in chief. Whatever you want to do with this information, sir, I’m ready.”

Kotetsu smiled, grateful for the distraction, grateful also to see the old Ivan again. _Maybe he’s finally moving on. Maybe he found someone else? God knows it’s been long enough since Edward died. Then again…took me seven years after I lost Tomoe. Maybe I should stop judging._

 __

“We should take this opportunity,” Yuri said immediately. “Ivan could get in and—“

“I said no assassinations until they take hostile—“

“Why?” Yuri demanded. “Why should we wait for them to kill us before we attack them?”

“Because that’s what makes us the good guys!” Kotetsu roared. “The people who attack first are the _bad_ guys!”

There was a heavy silence, and this time no one was laughing. One of the council members had buried his head in his hands. Ms. Joubert rolled her eyes with a muttered, “ _Honestly._ ” 

Pao-Lin raised her hand. “Mr. Mayor, can we take a vote on that? Personally, I’d like to be the guys that stay alive.”

“No. We aren’t starting a war. We are a peaceful, _free_ city. _That_ is what separates us from being the kind of NEXT who rise up by murdering our owners. _That_ is why NEXT want to live here more than anywhere else in the world.” He glared around the table at every member of the Council. “We _have_ to be the good guys.”

There was a quiet snort, and Kotetsu swiveled to look at Henry Clark, Research Scientist, the man he had known as Barnaby Brooks Jr. “You have something to say, Mr. Clark?”

Mr. Clark adjusted his glasses. “Isn’t there a medium we could reach? Even if you don’t want to take an all-out hostile action, couldn’t we use the intelligence about NEXT powers? Perhaps if we looked more closely into using Arestium in alternate forms—”

“ _No._ ” That came from Kotetsu, Pao-Lin, Yuri, even Etienne. 

“Why not? If it would help improve the defenses of the city, isn’t it a foolish advantage to squander? Sternbild _does_ have the largest Arestium production factory in the world, after all.”

The NEXT looked at each other, trying to think of how to phrase their objection. “Yuri,” Kotetsu said at last. “You wore it the longest. Can you explain?”

Yuri shot him a glance, but shook his head once, quickly. 

“Pao-Lin?”

“I’d really rather not.” She looked down at the table, not meeting his eyes.

“I will,” said Etienne from behind Kotetsu. He stood up, clearing his throat. “Arestium stops NEXT from using their powers. If it completely encircles a NEXT, their connection to the power gained from genetic mutation is severed. It is believed to work by resonating with the genetic sequence of a pure human, highlighting the mutation of a NEXT as an outside influence.”

“That’s not just a belief,” said Mrs. Brooks. “It’s fact.”

Etienne nodded at her. “Fact, but one we know little about. What you can’t understand unless you are a NEXT is how it feels to be without that power.”

“Just makes you feel like normal humans, doesn’t it?” asked Mr. Brooks, a hand on his wife’s. Both of them avoided looking at Mr. Clark.

“No,” Yuri and Pao-Lin said at once.

Etienne shook his head. “At least, I hope not, for the sake of all the humans out there. It doesn’t feel like being unable to use one of your senses, like suddenly being blind. That’s too simple. It feels…wrong. Like being forced into a different plane of reality, where you have all of your senses but they don’t work quite right. You’ve heard of amputees who have pains in the phantom limb years later? Wearing a collar feels as if your entire body is a phantom, and it _always_ hurts.”

Kotetsu shivered, and he was sure he wasn’t the only one. He’d only worn a collar once, for a few minutes. It was one of the worst experiences of his life. 

Mr. Clark looked nauseated. “That’s what Arestium feels like? Why hasn’t anyone brought that up before?”

Then, he realized what he’d said. “Oh. My apologies.” He still looked uneasy, and stared down at his own hand as though he’d never seen it before.

“I have a question,” Pao-Lin said suddenly. “Ivan, are the slaves all collared?”

“Of course.”

“Then what’s the point? Why even have NEXT soldiers if they can’t use their powers?"

Kotetsu thought for a moment. “I have no idea. Ivan, can you get into the camp again tonight?”

“Tonight?” There was a hint of a whine in Ivan’s voice, but he quickly covered it up. “I mean, sure. I’ll look around and see what I can find.”

“Find out if they’re being used as suicides,” Yuri said calmly. “If so, we may have to take them out before they can get to us.”

Kotetsu started to rise out of his chair, but Etienne put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, sir. You can’t go losing your temper over—damn, sorry.” He tried to pull his hand away, but couldn’t. He bit his lip, looking embarrassed.

Trying to look dignified while Etienne failed to deactivate his NEXT power of uncontrollable sticky-hands, Kotetsu sat as straight as he could and glared down the table at Yuri. “We are not pre-emptively killing anyone, commander, NEXT, or innocent civilians. This Council exists to protect people, not to murder them. Fighting is one thing. We fight when we have to, in order to survive. But if we just kept killing the people who _might_ kill us, then…well, we’d never stop, would we? We’d kill each other, and then ourselves, because we might commit suicide, and…” Kotetsu stopped, suddenly aware that he’d followed that train of thought too far. 

“Right. Meeting over. Ivan, get on infiltrating the NEXT camp. Pao-Lin, you’re in the air again tonight. R&D, I need the budgets to Etienne by tomorrow morning at the _latest_. Mr. Petrov, please stay behind.”

The rest of the council shuffled out, with the exception of Etienne. “Sorry, sir,” he said again, trying and failing to disconnect his hand from Kotetsu’s shirt. “It’ll go away in a couple of hours.”

Yuri smirked. Then, he crossed over to Kotetsu and carefully unbuttoned the other man’s shirt. “Why don’t you just take this with you, Etienne? That way the mayor can get back to his important business of being naïve at the enemy.”

Kotetsu didn’t protest too hard as Etienne promised to return his shirt, then ducked out of the council chamber. The Class-B had a good nose for trouble.

“You drive me crazy.” Kotetsu unbuttoned Yuri’s shirt, yanking it down over his shoulders. “You rile me up on purpose.”

“I like seeing you angry.”

“You’re talking about _innocent lives_.”

“Oh, shut up. How many people have you killed with your Hundred Power? How many died in the Revolution?”

“The Revolution you started!”

“You started it. I only gave you a reason.” Yuri ripped off Kotetsu’s belt, throwing it on the table.

“There was always a reason.” Kotetsu grabbed Yuri by the waistband, pulled him close so they were pressed flush against each other. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why did it take you so long, hmm?” Yuri asked. He reached for Kotetsu’s pants.

Kotetsu thrust up against that hand, not letting him undo the buttons, mashing his hips against the contact as he groaned. 

“Damn it, let me get your dick out before you start humping away.”

Kotetsu kissed him, just to shut him up. He reached down into Yuri’s pants and pulled him out, just as Yuri finally got his hands around Kotetsu’s hard length. 

Kotetsu thrust up against him, horny, demanding, and things were very confusing until Yuri got them lined up properly together. Kotetsu’s hand rested alongside his, and Yuri pumped both of them together as they thrust.

“God, you’re so hard,” Yuri muttered.

“Nnn, you too.”

“I bet you wouldn’t—ohh—last ten seconds if I put it in you right now.”

“Not even five,” Kotetsu agreed. 

Yuri’s hand moved faster, their foreheads resting together, both desperate for release. “Mm. That’d be five, five hot seconds, though.”

“Shut up, Yuri.”

Yuri chuckled. “Were you hard in the meeting?”

“What? N-no. Pervert.” _Not the whole time._

 __

Yuri sucked hard on Kotetsu’s neck. “I was.”

Just that confession, the idea of Yuri arguing with him while wanting to pound him into the mattress, maybe wanting to take him on the Council table—

That was enough, and Kotetsu came with a gasp, mere seconds before Yuri followed him.

“Stop. I want you.”

“I’m right—“

“I want to take you.”

Yuri went perfectly still, like an animal who’d spotted one of his ancestral predators. Then, he gave a short nod. “Fine. That’s fair.”

He unbuttoned his own trousers and let them fall to the floor. Then, he turned around, spread his legs, and leaned over the table. “Go on.”

From such an angle, Kotetsu could clearly see the outlines of every welt, every rough patch, every long scar on Yuri’s back, buttocks, thighs. He could see the scars and burns around Yuri’s wrists and ankles, and knew there were matching ones on his neck. “Not like this.”

“Do it. Come on.”

“Yuri, stop it.”

“I’m giving you what you asked for. Take it.”

Kotetsu backed up several paces. “What did you think I was asking for?”

 _“Damn_ it, Kotetsu—“

“What? What did I do wrong? Did I break some kind of rule about sleeping with a guy or something?” He let out a near-hysterical laugh, frightened at the way Yuri was acting. “Is it like you showed dominance over me the first time, and now I’m supposed to accept that for—“

“Shut up.” Yuri bowed his head, still bent over the table as if he didn’t have the strength to get up. “You don’t understand.”

Kotetsu was at his side in an instant, reaching out to touch Yuri’s hair. “What? Tell me.”

“It’s…there are rules.” Yuri clenched, unclenched his fingers, staring down at the table. “Rules I’m supposed to follow.”

“Whose rules?”

“M-master.”

 

 _“I kept thinking he’d get tired of me. I was wrong.”_

 __

 _“What was his name? The man who owned you.”_

 __

 _“As far as I know? Master.”_

 _  
_

__

The words from one of their first conversations echoed in Kotetsu’s mind. He took Yuri’s hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it still bothered you. You never show it.”

Yuri laughed, dark and humorless. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Besides, it isn’t exactly that it bothers me.”

“Then what?”

Yuri pressed his forehead to the cool metal table, closing his eyes. “I don’t like what it turns me into.”

“Yuri, you don’t have to—you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I’d never make you.”

“I know. Besides, I could…never mind.” He straightened up with an obvious effort. “You want to find out what it’s like? What he did to me?”

“Yuri—“

“Come to my place tonight. Get your daughter a babysitter.” His eyes were hooded, impossible to read. “Make sure you’re ready.”


	7. Who Learn, Too Late

Kotetsu ran a hand through his hair, feeling every inch the deadbeat. "Kaede, sweetie?"

"Yeah?" She looked up from her homework, pencil poised between numbers. It seemed odd, that the schools still functioned when everything was so insane. But then, Kotetsu reasoned, what were they fighting for if not the children? 

"I have to go out tonight. Can you spend the night at the orphanage?"

Kaede's face fell, and Kotetsu felt like an utter bastard. _I should be staying at home with my daughter, not leaving her at an orphanage to go meet a man for sex._

"Is it about the war?" She looked up at him with eyes that looked huge.

Looked like her mother's.

"No," he said at last, unable to lie to his daughter. "It's not. I was just going--"

"Good." Kaede straightened up, tucking her papers into her backpack. "You should go out with your friends more often. I'll be fine with Pao-Lin. Do I have time to grab my sleeping bag?"

"Kaede, wait. Can we talk for a minute?"

She paused, then sat. "What's wrong? Is it the war?"

 _She's so scared. It's right, what we're doing. Otherwise, she'd probably already be a slave._ The thought of Kaede, his Kaede encircled by a heavy Arestium collar, seized him with fear. "No. It's about you and me."

He took a knee next to her, taking her hand in his larger one. "Tell me what you remember about your mom."

"About Mom? Why?"

He closed his eyes, for a second seeing Tomoe so clearly he had to remind himself that no, it was only in his head. "We used to do this a lot. Tell me what you remember."

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

She bit her lip, thinking. "I guess...I remember her mostly from pictures. Like, I remember her hair, but I might have seen that in a picture. And the only clothes I remember are the ones she wore in the pictures."

He kissed her hand gently. "That's okay. She'd understand. She didn't want to leave you."

Kaede blinked rapidly. "I know, Daddy."

"She didn't want to leave either of us."

"I know."

"I..." He swallowed hard. It wouldn't be too difficult to keep his relationship with Yuri from Kaede. Yuri was discreet, didn't make many demands on his time, and had legitimate reasons for spending time around Kotetsu. Kaede didn't hate him; after the Revolution, she actually liked the pale man, though she was careful not to touch him for fear of losing control of his fire-eyes. He couldn't risk losing her, though. Kaede was all he...

Kaede was...

Kotetsu was used to thinking that Kaede was all he had. He'd lived that way for six years, sacrificing his principles to the altar of Kaede's safety. She'd been his reason, when otherwise he'd have followed his Tomoe, his beloved.

But she wasn't all he had now. Not anymore. He had a whole city to protect. There were people--women, men, children he'd never met--relying on him. He had friends, people that wouldn't have been alive if he hadn't saved them. And for whatever it was worth, he had Yuri.

He could have kept it from Kaede, sure. He'd kept his NEXT powers from her, and that had been a terrible burden. Maybe Yuri would even prefer it to be kept a secret.

Kaede wasn't Yuri's daughter. She was Kotetsu's. There was even the possibility that the information could be used against him, as blackmail.

 _Feh, I'm overthinking it. I should just do what feels right._ "Kaede, sweetie, how would you feel if Daddy started...seeing someone?"

Her brow creased. "Seeing someone? Like dating?"

"Like dating."

Kaede's voice lowered until it was almost a whisper. "Do I have to call her 'Mom?'"

"No!" Kotetsu answered too loudly, almost panicked. Then, the image of Yuri in Tomoe's clothes caught up to him, and he vowed never to think about it again. 

"Then I guess it's okay." She hesitated, then said, "It might be weird for a little while, though. And I'm not promising to like her."

Kotetsu thought about correcting her pronoun, but decided against it. There had been a large enough leap for the day. "Thank you. Okay, get your backpack. And your phone!"

"Is that where you're going tonight?" Kaede asked, sudden apprehension on her face. "On a date?"

"That's right. Come on, get your sleeping bag." Kotetsu threw the sleeping bag over his shoulder, and was heading for the door when there was a knock. He felt such relief, such gladness that he'd gotten the relationship off his chest, that he was less cautious than usual about opening the door.

He only caught the briefest glimpse of a face before the gun went off.

 

*

 

There was a shockingly loud noise, and Kaede flinched so hard she fell to the ground. There was a spray of blood from her father's back, but it couldn't be real. He couldn't have been shot, because it didn't make any noise when he hit the ground. It didn't make any noise when she screamed either.

She saw her Dad glowing, struggling to twist around and face her, using the last of his strength to mouth, "Kaede.... _run_...."

The gun fired again, and pain blazed on her upper arm. It galvanized her, sparked her adrenaline, and she activated her father's powers. 

She heard the gun fire again, and knew full well that a hundred times faster than usual was _not_ faster than a bullet. She ran at the figure in the door, but it ducked to the side, and she sped past as it barked again and again, seven or eight times as she bounded up the nearest tall building. 

She didn't stop running, terrified at every second that another gun would fire, and she'd drop the way her father had.

 _Have to find someone. Have to hide. Have to get help. Oh god, oh, god, Dad..._

She hit the bar first, tearing the door off its hinges without meaning to. "Antonio!" she yelled, looking frantically around, but the big man was nowhere to be seen. "Where is he?" she demanded of the bartender.

The man blinked and stammered, "H-he went home with a woman..."

No good. She'd have to find someone else.

She fled the bar, easily scaling the wall, trusting in the hundredfold strength of her fingers. She bounded over rooftops to the orphanage, only to pull aside in terror when she heard more gunshots coming from inside.

Then lightning flared in the darkness, and a dark figure crumpled to the ground. Kaede was about to jump down and take a look, but the figure stood up again, aimed, and kept firing.

 _Oh god oh god, is anyone safe?_

She ran through her mental list of powerful NEXT, trying to think of any that lived close. Most of them lived at the orphanage, but she had to get them _help._ Her power wouldn’t last long, and she had to make the most of it. That was the plan.

 _“Step one, get yourself safe,”_ her Dad’s voice said in her memory. _“We’re fighting a war now, and I won’t always be around when you need me. I’d like to, but this is bigger than us. So step one is to get yourself out of danger.”_

 __

 _Done._

 __

 _“Step two is to find someone around who can help you. You know where all the Class-H NEXT live. Make a list so you don’t forget, but never leave the list lying around.”_

 __

The NEXT that lived closest was Yuri. She dashed over the rooftops, not trusting the streets, and swooped down to land gently on the ground outside his house.

The door was standing open.

 _Not safe. Got to keep going._

 __

She was terrified, but there would be time for that later. There would be time for that when they were all safe.

 _Keith._

 __

Kaede headed for the wall, where Keith could always be found late at night. It was a long way from Yuri’s place, and when she was halfway there she remembered that Ivan lived closer. _Too late now. Have to keep going._

 __

She jumped from one building to another effortlessly, keeping the wall’s watchtower in sight. At the base, she started leap-climbing up the abandoned buildings and concrete scaffolding that made up the wall, a flying squirrel in vertical motion.

 _Remember to keep an eye on your time,_ Dad’s voice said again.

Too late.

Gravity came back with a rush as the blue glow died, and Kaede’s hands struggled to find better purchase than what they were holding. There was an old iron fire escape below, and she hit it hard. It groaned under the sudden unexpected weight, and a couple of rusted bars popped free of their joinings. Kaede cried out and grabbed at the wall, and a sharp pain stole her breath. 

 _Glass,_ she thought, seeing the blood flowing from her hand. _There was broken glass. I grabbed a window._

 __

The fire escape creaked, and tilted a little farther. Kaede lurched. The ground was a long, _long_ way down, and the top too far to hear her if she yelled.

The opening of the window was large enough for her to fit through, but only just. When another bar gave way, she threw caution to the wind and jumped through, feeling jagged edges of broken glass scratch along her stomach.

Inside the old building, she sat looking out at the city of Sternbild, hugging her knees to her chest. She couldn’t stop seeing it happen in front of her eyes—her Dad, the blood, the fall—her Dad, the blood, the fall—her Dad, the blood, the fall—

 

*

 

“There’s someone at the door.”

Ivan made a face, then turned and buried his head in the pillow. “Mmphm.”

“Lazy,” Edward said with an affectionate chuckle. “I’ll get it.”

“Wait.” Ivan raised his voice, calling, “Who’s at the door?”

No answer. Just another knock.

“What’s wrong?” Edward asked, suddenly tense at the expression on Ivan’s face. 

“That’s not one of our knocks. It’s a stranger.” He paused, listening. The walls of his apartment were thin, enough that he could have heard the heavy breathing of his landlord.

Instead, he heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked. “Scatter,” he ordered, and Edward dissolved into sand at the same time Ivan vanished.

He held perfectly still, just another blanket on the bed, as someone on the landing kicked open the door. The gun, a quick-load pistol with a cheap silencer clipped to the barrel, sent a few rounds around the room, spread out almost perfectly. The figure paused, looked around the apparently empty room, then turned and walked back down the stairs.

Ivan stayed a blanket for a count of ten after he heard the downstairs door shut, then peeled himself back into his own body. It was harder to compress his mass into something that wasn’t human-shaped, but it came in damned useful sometimes. 

Edward stepped out from the wall in a flurry of sand, then immediately went about checking Ivan for any holes. “Are you hurt? I heard gunshots.”

“I’m fine. He didn’t see me. Come on, we’ve got to catch him.” Ivan grabbed his communicator from the nightstand, then tried calling Kotetsu.

No answer.

He checked the clock, but it was only nine pm. _No way he’s gone to bed._ Frowning, he tried calling Yuri.

No answer.

“We’ve got trouble,” he said, and grabbed his coat as he called Keith.

“Ivan?”

Ivan ducked hurriedly to the side so Edward wouldn’t be in the line of sight. “Keith! I haven’t been able to get through to anyone. Someone just tried to kill me.”

“Myself as well. I’m on my way to the orphanage right now. The others?”

“Can’t reach Kotetsu or Yuri. They’re the only ones—wait, I’ve got another call.”

“Stay safe, my friend.”

Ivan switched over to the new call, and Karina’s anxious face. “Ivan! Oh, thank god, you’re okay.”

“What’s going on?”  Ivan ran for the door, thundering down the stairs while he talked. 

“There was a man. He was shooting, and—I got hit, but I’m okay. We stopped him.”

“Got hit? Where?”

“My arm. But it’s fine.” There were tears in her eyes, but she was holding it together. “Ivan, I have to tell you, don’t try to kill them. It doesn’t work.”

“What?”

“Pao-Lin fried him, and he just got back up. Freezing him in ice seemed to do the trick, though. He’s still in it. I think he’s about to freeze to death, so we’ll see if he can come back from that.”

“Anyone else down?”

“One of the kids, but I don’t think he’s—oh, Keith’s here, I have to go. Be safe!”

When Ivan rounded the next corner, Edward had the hooded figure in a lock, hands forced behind his back, kneeling on the ground. “Hey,” he said, panting slightly, “took you long enough.”

Ivan forced the man’s hood back. If he was expecting a revelation, it was not forthcoming. “Who are you? Who sent you?”

“You can’t kill me.”

“Who said I was going to?”

The man’s lips parted in a sneer. “You NEXT freaks are all the same. The General’s going to teach you. He’s going to show you what it means to—“

He sagged in Edward’s arms, suddenly limp. “Hey. Hey,” Ivan said, pushing the man’s head with his foot. “I’m talking to—“

Edward dropped him, confused. “He’s…” He reached down, felt for a pulse, then shook his head. “He’s dead. What the hell?”

Ivan went through the man’s pockets, searching for ID. “Remember that movie we saw where the assassins took poison before leaving, so they knew they’d never be forced to talk? Maybe he did that. Here we go.” He pulled out the man’s passport, and his stomach clenched.

“What’s wrong?”

 _Shit no no no fuck no._ He stared down at his own name, written in his own handwriting under the “sponsor” line. He couldn’t meet Edward’s eyes, couldn’t admit what he’d done. _No, no, no…._

 __

“Ivan.” Edward’s hands were hot on his shoulders. “Tell me. You’ve got your guilt face on.”

Ivan licked his lips nervously, looking left and right for any way of escape. Short of outright fleeing, he couldn’t see a way to get out of telling the truth. And fleeing from his boyfriend would be pretty stupid. “I…I think I did a bad thing.”

“What did you do?”

Ivan swallowed, unable to look up into the face he’d missed so much. _I’d have done anything to have you back._ “I…made a deal. I didn’t mean to, but…”

“Deal? What deal? Deal for what?”

“For you.” The words were hardly more than a whisper.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me? What kind—Ivan, you’ve got to talk, or this is going to take forever, and we don’t have time.”

“There was a woman. A NEXT. She said that if I got her friends passports, she could…she knew someone…sheknewaNEXTwhocouldbringyouback.”

Edward’s hands dropped off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Ivan said, then shook his head. “No, I’m not. I mean, I’m sorry she was a lying manipulative bitch, but I’m not sorry I made the deal.”

“Ivan, you _had_ to know that anyone who said that was tricking you!”

“I didn’t do it!” he said, trying to make Edward understand. “I thought she was lying, and I turned her down! But then…” Then Edward had come back, in one piece, without zombie eyes. “After she made good…”

“That’s why you didn’t want to tell anyone I showed up. That’s why you didn’t want me to come to meetings or go see my friends.” Edward rubbed at his face, a sure sign he was trying to keep his anger under control. “I thought you were giving me some kind of a clone trial period or something.”

“Well….that too.”

“Come on.”

“Where are—“

“We’re going to go find the others.” Edward’s hand was tight on his, almost painfully so. “We’re going to make this right.”

“But—“

Edward stopped and kissed him, hands tangled in Ivan’s hair, hard enough that Ivan felt it in his knees. When he pulled away, his face was flushed. “I’d have done the same, okay? Whatever it took. But we have to make it right.”

"B-but the guys in movies who try to make it right after fucking it up always die!"

"Ivan, you can't let tvtropes run your life. I _know_ we've had that conversation before. Besides," he said, with the carefree grin that Ivan had first fallen in love with, "we're the heroes."

Ivan was pretty sure that he, at least, was no hero. But if Edward thought he was... “Okay.”


	8. Blind Eyes Could Blaze

Time stopped.

Kotetsu breathed in and out, heard the wheezing burbling sounds coming from his chest, but time had stopped.

He hung in the air, supported by nothing at all. He blinked, and his eyelashes moved, but the spray of blood in the air hung absolutely motionless.

Nearby, a boy was weeping brokenly. It was the kind of sound that spoke of a long pain that he knew would continue, probably would never stop. He was a strange-looking child, with watery green eyes and white hair. There was no muscle on his frame, and his face had the pale sallow look of someone who had never seen the sun. He wore a collar, but not the standard-issue Arestium, Kotetsu could tell that at a glance. 

A girl, who looked very similar to the boy in coloring and age, was touching his chest. “Aim a little higher next time, so you hit the heart,” she was saying. Her voice was too young. She sounded like a little child, not a girl in her teens as she looked. 

“He can’t hear you,” the weeping boy said. “You know he can’t.”

The girl pinched the sides of the wound—and now he could feel the wound. There was a hole cutting through his chest, a bigger one in his back. Time must have stopped because he was dead. 

“How much time does Rhea need?” the girl asked.

“Forever. Forever and it’s over and it hurts,” the boy whined. He clutched at his face, fingernails digging long furrows into the skin.

“Shh,” the girl said, and glowed blue. Kotetsu felt his flesh squirming, twisting, rearranging itself around the bullet hole. He tried to speak, but the only sound that game out was a wet gurgle.

“You hit the lung,” the girl said sternly. “I told you, heart’s easier.”

“He can’t hear you. Can’t hear can’t see—“ The boy started giggling, breath hitching with sharp pains every now and then.

“Rhea, hurry up. Jo’s losing it again.” Kotetsu couldn’t tell if she was worried or annoyed, this strange woman-child who was—yes, she was healing him. Healing him in a time that wasn’t time at all.

So his lung was hit. That would explain why he couldn’t breathe. He strained to see behind him, to see if Kaede had made it out all right. It hurt, and his chest was still _moving_ as the girl touched him, but he could see that the house was empty. _At least she made it. At least Kaede will be safe._ She knew what to do in an emergency.

Immediately, he wished he hadn’t turned to look. Worrying about Kaede had kept his mind off other matters, like how much it hurt to be shot in the chest.  With that worry assuaged, he had nothing left to distract him.

Strangely, the pain didn’t come. It felt suspended, just as he was suspended in midair, just as all sound except the manic laughing of the boy called Jo had stopped. He tried talking again. “Wh—“

“Stop it!” the girl cried, and yanked viciously on one of the exposed edges of his wound.

The strangeness, the wrongness of the feeling overrode the logical perception that it didn’t hurt, and he stopped talking.

“Don’t you understand?” she said, pale eyes wide and strange. “Everything you do hurts him.”

Kotetsu didn’t understand in the slightest. He did understand that she would hurt him if he spoke again, which was enough for the time being.

The strip of skin she’d torn wiggled back into place, sealing itself. “I’m ready whenever you’re ready,” she said aloud, though presumably not to him.

Jo’s laughter had turned back to sobs. He sank down to the floor, and out of Kotetsu’s line of vision. 

“I’m ready,” said a voice from below Kotetsu. “It takes longer, the older they are. He’s not very new.”

The girl who’d been healing him looked down, then nodded. “Nice. Jo, is it good enough?”

“It’s never good enough.”

Rhea straightened, and Kotetsu was unsurprised to see a third young person who looked just like the other two. “Good, Mia. Jo, take us home. Then the others.” 

The world blurred and shifted as the boy glowed orange. 

 

*

 

Someone was stroking his hair. 

The hand was warm, comforting against his cheek, and he nuzzled into it. It combed through his hair, nails barely scraping along his scalp, making him tingle pleasantly. "Tomoe," he sighed.

The hand stilled for a second, then started again.

It would have been so nice to just lie still, his head in Tomoe's lap, letting her play with his hair, cup his face in her hand.

Her very large hand.

With that realization, the fragile peace he'd been enjoying shattered. His back arched in sudden spasm, his breath caught in his throat, and all he could think was that something was very, _very_ wrong with him. "H-help," he stammered, hands clawing at the ground for some purchase, some pain to distract him.

"Shh. It's fine. You'll adjust soon."

 _How could anyone adjust to this?_ The sensation tore him apart, froze him, choked him, and he'd have done anything to make it stop. "What--"

"It really has been a long time for you, hasn't it? You were sweating in your sleep."

The voice was familiar, very familiar, but it wasn't Tomoe's. It was a man, one he was sure he knew, but none of his senses were making sense. He couldn't quite see, couldn't quite hear--he _could_ hear, _could_ see, but the words and pictures didn't add up the way they were supposed to. Someone was making horrible pathetic noises, and he had a terrible feeling they were coming from his mouth.

"It's all right. Ride it out. I'd touch you more, but that only makes it more confusing. You've got to get through this part, Kotetsu."

 _Kotetsu._ He knew his name, in that voice. He'd heard it gasped out against his ear, moaned in passion. And if it wasn't Tomoe, it was...

"Yuri?"

That was it. Yuri. He knew Yuri. And if Yuri was Yuri, then the hand stroking his hair was Yuri, and the lap he was resting against was Yuri. That meant that what his eye was seeing was Yuri.

With that, the rest of his senses snapped into place. It hurt, like a rubber band cracking against his skin after being stretched to the breaking point. His senses felt _sore_ , raw and aching, and he shivered. 

"There you go. Can you sit up?"

Kotetsu nodded slowly, but the motion didn't hurt. He hauled himself to a sitting position, surprised that his body was operating normally. "I...I thought I was dead."

Yuri's voice might have been calm, but his face told another story. The lines around his eyes and mouth were deeper than before, drawn as if with age. He was shirtless, but his torso was smeared with dark blood. "So did I. They shot me."

"Me too. Then...I'm not sure what happened. Something strange." He couldn't stop touching his own skin, feeling like it was misplaced somehow. "Yuri, what's wrong with me? Am I dead?"

Yuri leaned over and placed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips in reassurance. "No. We're alive."

"Th-then why do I f-feel--"

"Arestium. It's in the walls, floor, ceiling."

Kotetsu rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear them. He and Yuri were in a small room, about half the size of his living room, with no doors or windows that he could see. He'd thought at first that the floor was cold, but that wasn't the case. It was something in the air, something in the quality of the metal that abraded, scalded, froze him. _Arestium._ He tried to ignite his power, but it slipped out of his grasp.

He clenched his jaw tight against the sensation, and to his shame felt tears burn his eyes. "It's...horrible. How are you still functioning?"

Yuri leaned against one wall, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I got used to it. I won't lie, when they first threw me in here I wasn't too pleased. Remember, I wore the collar for the better part of a decade, off and on. When's the last time you did?"

"I was ten. And it was only for a few minutes, before your father saved me."

Yuri nodded. "I remember the story you told me. Kotetsu...you realize we've been taken captive."

Kotetsu was quiet for a moment, then nodded. 

Yuri's voice was gentle, almost apologetic. "We're outside Sternbild, I'm almost certain. You know what that means?"

"Yeah." 

"Are you sure?"

"I spent ten years running a Safe House, Yuri. I pulled the chains off Keith and Karina myself. I've seen your scars."

"But you've never experienced it yourself. You should be frightened."

"I am!" Kotetsu snapped. "Why are you trying to make me angry?"

Then he saw the tension in Yuri's shoulders, the muscle jumping in the other man's temple. Yuri was frightened himself, and trying not to show it. "Hey," Kotetsu said, brushing Yuri's hair back as he'd done for Kotetsu, "it'll be fine, like you said. They can't have gotten everyone. Kaede got away. She'll go to the others. They'll get together, they'll be safe. Were those Arestium bullets they shot us with?"

"No. I was using my fire even after they shot me."

"Can you use it now? You did when I first met you, even though you had the collar on."

"No. Not when it's all around like this. I have a natural resistance to it--I don't know why, but I always have, since I was a child." He smiled a little, and the lines around his mouth faded. "It's the only thing that saved my life, quite a few times."

"We'll get out of this. You know that, right?"

Yuri nodded once, sharply. 

"They'll find us," Kotetsu  assured him. "We just have to hold out until then. Obviously they don't want us dead, or they wouldn't have healed us." He rubbed at his chest, only then noticing that Yuri was staring at him.

"Isn't that much, much worse?"

Kotetsu said nothing. They both knew it was.


	9. Do Not Go Gentle

There was no way to tell time, in the Arestium box, but Kotetsu guessed it had been several hours before one of the walls slid open a fraction.

Yuri flashed towards it in an instant, eyes ablaze, the fire arching out in an uncontrolled wash, lancing to the opening.

The door shut. The second it was shut the entire way, the heavy, oppressive sensation of the Arestium fell over Kotetsu again like a blanket.

"Well," he remarked, more to himself than to Yuri, "that was something."

 

*

 

Hours, many hours later, the door opened again. Yuri twitched, but Kotetsu grabbed his arm. "No! They'll just seal us in again."

"Better than what they'll do to us out there."

"You don't know that." Kotetsu shifted uncomfortably. "And if we're kept longer without a bathroom, it's going to get worse in here."

Yuri was tense under his hand. "Fine. But if they try anything..."

After a few more seconds, a voice echoed through the box. "Kaburagi Kotetsu. Yuri Petrov. You have been apprehended as escaped NEXT, and subsequently deprived of the basic human rights you have usurped. Your unlawful rebellion against your rightful masters will be terminated. Until time permits you to be auctioned off, you are considered property of the state. If you are prepared to acquiesce to your fate, proceed obediently from the enclosure. If not, you will be disciplined. There will be no rescue for you. There is no possibility of escape."

"It's all right," Yuri said, breath hot against his ear. "It's just the average speech. I won't let them keep you."

Kotetsu nodded. "If we come out," he said, raising his voice, "what sort of treatment--"

"NEXT have no right to demand anything from humans. NEXT have no right to speak to humans. You will submit to being collared and bound, or you will remain in the enclosure."

"Go." Yuri nuzzled into his hair, kissed the skin just behind his ear. "I'll find you."

Kotetsu wanted to protest that _he'd_ find _Yuri_ , but stopped himself. Some instinct told him that Yuri needed this, needed to feel useful, needed to be a protector. He swallowed hard. "I trust you."

He edged towards the exit, took a deep breath, and emerged from the box. They grabbed him by the hair, fastened the collar around his neck. It felt huge and heavy, and he struggled to keep mental focus. He tried to stand, but they forced him to his knees with his head down.

"Stay, dog," a man snarled--the one holding his hair, he thought through a haze of sudden pain.

"Shut the other one back up in the box," another said. "I've heard of that one. We'll starve him a little before breaking him."

"That's not the order," said the one holding Kotetsu's hair. "We're supposed to collar both of them. 'Sides, this one isn't giving too much trouble. Are you?" He leaned down close to Kotetsu’s face, giving his hair a hard yank.

“But—but I heard the collar don’t work on it. I heard—“

“Don’t worry.” This was a new voice, from the doorway of the room. Kotetsu looked over and saw a man leaning against the wall, dressed in a tailored military uniform. Not General MacMillan—he knew what the General looked like from TV, and from Ivan’s reports. Kotetsu wasn’t too familiar with military ranks, but he was fairly sure the insignia on this man’s jacket wasn’t too much lower. “Bring it out. I’ll make certain it’s docile.”

Kotetsu heard the click of another collar, heard another body hitting the floor. He tried to turn and look, but the man was still holding his hair. His hands clenched into fists, but he knew it would be futile to fight.

He heard Yuri’s breathing, slow and controlled, and the slow clack of the uniformed man’s boots on the tile floor. “That’s right,” the man said, with a slight chuckle. “I think it remembers me.”

There was a soft wet noise, then the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Kotetsu saw Yuri slide across the floor out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t hurt him!” he tried to say, but the man holding him kicked him hard in the stomach, driving all the wind out of his lungs.

“I see. So here we have the public face of the rebellion.” The man stalked over to Kotetsu and turned his face this way and that with the press of his thumb. “Not terribly impressive in your proper place, are you? Oh, don’t try that,” he said, and Kotetsu blinked.

“Try what?”

The man backhanded him hard enough that his teeth rattled. “NEXT have no business talking to humans.” He nodded to one of the others in the room, and someone clipped a metal strip between Kotetsu’s teeth, fastening it behind his head.

 _Not just a gag, a bit._ The word made him ill. He could picture himself, bound and gagged and kneeling, and he’d never felt so degraded.

“You,” the man said, turning to Yuri. “I said don’t try it.”

Yuri’s eyes were streaming trails of flame, dripping with hate.

The man laughed again. “You do remember me. Good. I thought you might have forgotten. How old were you?”

Yuri said nothing.

“Let’s see…your master was so excited to show off his pretty new toy.” The man strode around, circling Yuri like a cat. He reached down and ran a finger down a particularly long scar, one Kotetsu remembered tracing with his own finger on other, better nights. “That was before you were so used, though. Do you remember my name? You can speak.”

Yuri’s lips parted to show his teeth. Quietly, in a voice that shook with fury, he said, “I’ve never met anyone as in love with the sound of his own name as you.”

“Then say it, slave.”

After a minute of silence, the man straightened. “You’ve clearly forgotten how this works. You give me what I want. I don’t take more away from you than you have left. That is all you get out of it.” He nodded at the man holding Kotetsu.

“Brandt!” Yuri spat out the name just as Kotetsu felt the cold metal of a gun’s barrel against the back of his head.

"Colonel Brandt, now," the man said, satisfaction in his voice. "Long time passed."

The man holding Kotetsu's hair shifted uncomfortably. "Sir...weren't we supposed to take them up to--"

Brandt shut him up with a look. "Some things are worth taking your time, Corporal. We're supposed to verify their identity. The face of the Rebellion," he said, nodding to Kotetsu, "and the brains." He reached out to touch Yuri, but stopped as the fire intensified. "Turn off your eyes."

When Yuri's eyes kept flaming, Brandt sighed. "Break his fingers. Two, since it made me wait twice."

"No!" Yuri called out, but one of the guards had already wrenched Kotetsu's arm behind his back.

There was a sharp crack, and pain shot down Kotetsu's arm like lightning. He clamped his jaws down on the bit, tears in his eyes. When the second finger broke, Kotetsu nearly threw up.

"Do you understand yet?" Brandt asked, voice hardly audible over the pounding of blood in Kotetsu's ears. "The more you refuse to surrender your stubborn pride, the worse it'll be for him."

"Sir," another man said, "the General wanted--"

Brandt growled deep in his throat. "Fine. Take them up. And if this one tries anything--"

"You can't kill him," Yuri said, spitting out the words. "If you do, you'll have nothing to hold over me."

Brandt's hand clenched on his gun. "And if this one tries anything, take out that one's eyes." He leaned down and said something too quiet for Kotetsu to hear. Yuri's eyes flared, the fire brighter than ever, and Brandt laughed. "Oh, this is better. I was afraid you'd be boring now that you're old, but...this is going to be _fun_."

Then they hauled Kotetsu out, never letting him stand full up, and forced him down a corridor. His knees burned against the rough flooring, scraped bloody through his pants. He folded the hand with broken fingers against his chest, trying to protect it from the worst of the jostling, but it was nearly impossible. He fell several times, but the guards yanked him up by his collar.

The stairs were the worst. It felt like he hit every harsh angle there was, but the guards kicked him every time he fell or stalled. They didn't talk, didn't mock; if anything, they seemed embarrassed by the Colonel's behavior.

Finally, one man knocked on a wooden door. After receiving a crisp "Enter," the men opened the door and led Kotetsu inside, forcing him to kneel in front of a large desk.

"Very good. Leave us."

"Sir--"

Whatever look the General shot, it proved quite effective. The two men saluted, then shut the door behind them as they left.

The General, at least, felt no need to show dominance by standing over Kotetsu's kneeling form. He swept his hand across papers, signing his name in flourishes, for a good few minutes.

Kotetsu took the time to strain against the Arestium. _Got to get my powers. Got to heal._ The pain in his fingers throbbed sharply every time he breathed, overshadowing the minor pains of his knees, his neck where the collar cut into his skin. Every time he tried, the power slipped out of his grasp. Something that had been as easy as smiling was now as difficult as breathing water.

"Ah," the General said after several minutes, finally looking up from his papers. "Kaburagi. I've intended this meeting for months."

He waited, as if for an answer.

 _What does he expect me to do? Grunt around the gag?_ Bruised and battered as it was, Kotetsu still had pride.

MacMillan stacked his papers neatly, rather than throwing them at a clerk the way Kotetsu tended to do. “The collar,” he said after a moment. “You don’t like it, do you?”

Kotetsu saw no need to glorify such an obvious statement with an answer.

“Well, you need not wear it forever. You need not live the life of a slave at all, if you wish. I could make you very comfortable somewhere.”

 _Of course you could. You have me completely in your power, and you know it. And if you’re offering freedom, there’s a hefty price tag._

“Do you consider yourself a smart man, Kaburagi? Of course you do. All men consider themselves smart. Prove it to me. Tell me what I want from you so badly that I’d let a Class-H slip through my fingers.”

He walked out from around the desk, then unclipped the gag. “Stay kneeling, though. I have no desire to see you on your feet until this conversation is concluded.”

Kotetsu longed to punch the man with his whole Hundred Power behind it. Men like Brandt were monsters, of course. But they were the sort of people who would exist in any society, the deviants, the power-hungry, the insane. Those cropped up anywhere.

Men like MacMillan were different. They took exactly what power they were allowed, always testing the boundaries of what was acceptable, never exceeding them. Kotetsu knew men like that; he would have bet everything he owned that MacMillan had a reputation with his own men as “hard, but fair.” He could have existed perfectly well in a society without slaves, and never felt the need for them.

Where there were slaves, though, men like MacMillan would be slave owners. In Kotetsu’s mind, that made them the real monsters.

He took a deep breath, savoring the clear sweetness of unobstructed air. He stretched out his lips, wiped his mouth off on his shoulder, then said, “You want me to do something. Publicly. Something about Sternbild.”

“Go on.”

 _He’s enjoying this. He knows I’m only guessing._ Brandt had called Yuri the brains of the Rebellion. _Is that what everyone thinks? Is it true?_ Kotetsu glared at the General. Even if it was true, he’d never sought to be in charge. He’d never claimed he was any good at this. “You want me to stand everyone down?”

“I want you to surrender. You do understand the term, don’t you? Don’t growl at me, I was only asking a question. This might be the last time someone treats you as a human, Kaburagi. This might be the last time someone uses your real name. Don’t waste it.”

“Surrender?”

“Unconditionally.”

“Why would I want to do that? It’s not worth my life.” His heart hurt for what Kaede would go through if he died, but it would be worse for her if he surrendered.

“It would be better for your precious city than defeat. You understand that? What defeat means? Every NEXT enslaved, every collaborator imprisoned, everyone who resists executed. Do you want that blood on your hands?”

“Not my hands!” Kotetsu’s fist clenched, and he almost passed out from the pain in his fingers. “Don’t blame me for your war. All we want is freedom.”

“But you’ll lose. You’ll have not your freedom, not your life, not anything. Kaburagi, would you like to hear my terms?”

Kotetsu glared, but said nothing.

“Freedom for you, provided you exist as a law-abiding member of this country and never use your powers again. Your daughter’s freedom, under the same conditions. You would be monitored, examined, and watched, but you would be free to live where and how you pleased.”

“And the rest of them?”

“Those who surrender peacefully will not be harmed before auction.”

“That’s a pretty thin promise.”

The General’s mouth compressed into a thin line. “How many will die if you fight? How many of the Class-H NEXT are your friends, Kaburagi? How many are you willing to lose?”

Keith. Karina. Ivan. Pao-Lin.

Yuri.

“All of them.” Kotetsu was surprised by his own voice, surprised by the strength of it after what he’d been through. “I’d rather lose all of them than see them subjugated again. You can’t promise me anything that’ll make me give that order.”

“No? What if I ordered your friend’s death? I could do it. He’s only a few rooms away.”

Kotetsu’s heart constricted painfully, but he shook his head. “He knows what we signed up for. He wouldn’t thank me for taking that from him.” _He’d probably kill me himself, if I traded his freedom for his life._

“Hm. Very well. I could win this war, with or without your help.”

“Then why offer me the chance?”

MacMillan took the gag in his hands and clipped it back around Kotetsu’s mouth. “Bloodshed is messy politically as well as physically. No matter, just more work for PR. You do realize that I have no further use for you, yes?”

 _This is the end._ He looked straight up at MacMillan, willing himself not to look away from the bullet he was sure was coming at his face any second.

“I’ll give you to Brandt,” MacMillan said, musing aloud. “And after your friend refuses me, as I’m certain he will, he can join you. I’ll make you another offer tomorrow--but Kaburagi, tomorrow _will_ be the last time. After that, I’ll have you publicly executed as a lesson to rebellious NEXT. That’s all.” He pushed a button on his desk phone, and the two men from earlier came in to haul Kotetsu out by the shoulders. MacMillan had already turned back to another set of papers.

That Colonel with his black eyes and shiny boots was waiting for him. Kotetsu might never have been captured himself, but he wasn’t stupid. Many nights, his lips captured in a kiss as Yuri moved above him, he’d run his fingers down the edges of the scars on the younger man’s back. A few times, unable to stop the images, he’d thought about what must have happened to make those scars. In his mind, it had always been the Yuri that he knew being hurt, even though Kotetsu had known the truth.

He also knew that he did not want to belong to Brandt, not even for a single day. Not if it meant living one extra day in the world. Not if it meant having the chance to surrender.

Especially if it meant having the chance to surrender. _What if I’m not as strong as I think I am? What if he breaks me, and I crumble? What if I’m weak enough that I’d trade my friends for an end to my suffering?_

 _Better to die now._ Kotetsu had known that capture was a possibility since he was eight years old, sleeping in the basement so no one would find out that the Kaburagi boy was developing powers. He’d seen the slaves at auction, stripped and displayed for the moneyed public. He’d seen the live shows, the fights, the races, and contented himself in the knowledge that he was saving as many as he could. He’d seen the aftermath, when big men wept into their hands, when young girls hanged themselves by ceiling fans, when a NEXT without a collar was so confused at life that he walked into traffic.

 _Not me._

 _Not like that._

 _Better to go to Tomoe now._ Yuri would understand. Antonio would take care of Kaede. They’d planned everything out the year before, always knowing it could come to this.

They had dragged him up several flights of stairs on his way to the General. He knew they were many stories above the ground, and fixed his eyes on a window. _That’ll do._

He braced the ball of his foot on the ground, then leapt into motion. He wrested free of the guard holding his collar, and didn’t bother slowing down to fight the other. He hurled himself at the window, not caring whether it was plate glass or open, determined to get through the hole or die in the attempt.

A hand caught his collar and wrenched him backwards, bruising his windpipe. He choked and coughed, tried to kick, tried to hit with his working hand, but his captor was strong. Somehow, Kotetsu knew even without looking that it was Colonel Brandt holding him.

He’d missed his chance.

He’d lost.

Now he didn’t even have the option of escape through death.

A voice purred into his ear, “Going somewhere?”

 _Probably never again._


	10. Their Frail Deeds

Kaede stared around the small room, at the men and women who avoided meeting her eyes. “Wait,” she said, voice quavering. “What do you mean you’re not going after them?”

“We have to think about the good of the city. There’s a lot more at stake here than people’s lives.” Etienne spoke gently, but that didn’t make the words any less horrible.

“This isn’t people! This is my dad!”

Keith looked more upset than anyone, even Antonio. “Believe us, it’s not that we don’t want to,” he started to say.

“Then what? Why not? He’s your friend! He saved your life! And yours!” she cried, pointing to Karina. “And yours, and yours, and--all of you!”

“No one’s arguing that. We’re just trying to think of the bigger picture.”

“What bigger picture? Who cares about the bigger picture?”

“Your father does.” Antonio looked sad, but determined. “Kaede, I need you to think about this. Come here, okay?”

Grudgingly, more because she needed the comfort than because he told her to, Kaede went to Antonio’s side.

He put a big arm around her, making her feel safe, protected. “Your father and I talked about this, lots of times. If he is alive--”

“Don’t--”

“If he is alive,” he repeated patiently, “then it’s either because they want something from him, or they want to trade us _for_ him. Your dad wouldn’t want us to do that. He wouldn’t want us to surrender.”

“How do you know?” Kaede was trying her hardest not to cry, but the tears came anyway. Her throat burned from the effort of holding in her sobs.

“Because he told me.”

“He told all of us,” Keith agreed. “We all said the same. We’d rather die than be used against our friends.”

The words sounded good, but they were just words. This was her _dad._ “Wh-what’s...” she pressed her hands hard against her eyes, then tried again. “What’s gonna happen now?”

“He asked me to take care of you,” Antonio said, rubbing her back. “But if you want to live with girls instead, you can stay with Pao-Lin and Karina.”

At the orphanage.

If Dad died, she would be an orphan.

For a minute, the reality of that sank in, and she buried her head in Antonio’s shoulder so no one would see her cry.

“Maybe you should take her out of here,” someone said, and she felt Antonio nod.

“No!” she protested, struggling against his grip. “No, I want to know what’s going to happen! I want to stay!”

“It’s not for kids. I’ll take you home.”

“I don’t want to go home! Antonio, please!”

He lifted her up easily, carrying her from the room. She screamed, she pounded his shoulders with her fists, but he didn’t let up. Anguished, she activated her powers without meaning to, and her next punch sent him to the ground.

“Hey!” he said, activating his own. “Stop it, Kaede! This is for your own--”

“Don’t tell me it’s for my own good! Good is having my Dad back! How can you let your best friend d-d-d-d--”

“Because he _told_ me to. I’m doing what he wanted. He wanted you and the city to be safe.”

“Wants! Don’t say wanted! Antonio, please! Please!” She clasped his shirt with both hands, fingernails digging into the rough fabric. She didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t crying now.

The big man was implacable. He was upset, she could see he was upset, but he shook his head. “Sorry. There’s nothing--Kaede!”

She hit him again in the chest, then ran off in the other direction. She wouldn’t be an orphan. She wouldn’t live at an orphanage. She certainly wouldn’t let her dad die, not while she could help it.

She’d wanted to help her mother, she remembered suddenly. She’d tried. She’d folded paper cranes with Ivan, trying to get to a thousand with her stubby four-year-old fingers, trying to get her guaranteed wish. How many had she finished? Not a thousand. Mom had died before she got to a thousand.

 _That was before I had powers. That was before I knew about responsibility._

She tore around the corner, and stopped abruptly. Somehow, without noticing it, she’d run straight for the city gate. _Dad’s out that,_ she thought to herself. _If I could only get through, I could go help him._

But how? The guards wouldn’t let her through. She wasn’t strong enough on her own to climb the walls--they were built high for a reason. Antonio’s powers wouldn’t help her with the wall. They might help if she fell off, but she’d still have to climb up eighty stories, and there weren’t always stairs.

 _Why did I have to let Antonio touch me? I was saving Dad’s powers. Now what am I going to--_

Footsteps echoed behind, and she pressed herself into a doorway. It was probably Antonio looking for her, and she was too busy planning to want to be found.

“--better if it’s a secret,” someone said.

“Why?” That voice she recognized as Ivan. “If we had more help--”

“We move faster with just the two of us. Besides, they’d want to stop us. You heard what they told Kotetsu’s daughter.”

“They’ll notice we’re missing.”

“No, they’ll notice you’re missing. No one knows about me, remember?”

“I _said_ I was sorry,” Ivan said to his shoes, face pink.

Kaede dashed from her hiding place and wrapped her arms around Ivan. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

“W-what? Kaede? What are--”

“You’re going after my dad, right? I want to come with you!”

“It’s too dangerous--”

“It’s going to be dangerous here, and you know it! Pao-Lin said that something big was going to happen soon, right?”

Ivan shifted uncomfortably. “Kaede, we’ll take care of this. I want you to go back to the orphanage and wait.”

For the first time, Kaede turned and looked at the man holding Ivan’s hand. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t remember what.

The man smiled, and waved a hand. “Hi, Kaede. We’ve never met, but I know your dad.”

The voice reminded her, and she turned to Ivan. “You turned into him! That’s where I know him from! Last year, when I first got my powers, right?”

Ivan blushed. “Uh...yeah. I think. Probably."

The man leaned over to say something in Ivan’s ear, and Ivan turned an even darker red. “S-stop! Kaede, this is my friend Edward.” Under his breath, he said something that sounded like, “At least he is when he behaves.”

Edward stuck out his hand, but Kaede didn’t take it. “You said your friend Edward was dead.”

“I...was wrong.” Both men looked uncomfortable now, though Ivan tried to smile. “Listen, Kaede, we have to go.”

“If you’re going to save my dad, I’m coming with you.”

Ivan started to say something, but Edward cut him off. “You can copy people’s powers, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Like the opposite of you,” he said to Ivan, nudging him in the ribs. “You do faces without powers, she does powers without faces. Right?”

“Something like that,” Ivan agreed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “But we should really start before--”

Edward leaned over and said something in Ivan’s ear again. The blond didn’t blush this time, but frowned. “I don’t know.”

“What? What? Is it about me?” Kaede asked.

Ivan looked like he was thinking very fast. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Okay. Kaede, do you want to help your dad?”

“Yes! That’s all I want!”

“Okay. Listen carefully. Here’s what I need you to do.”

 

*

 

The cursor blinked off and on, black against the white of the empty document. The screen was judging him, that was certain.

He took a sip of coffee, then typed out the title.

 

 _The Effects of Arestium Administered through Oral Capsules_

 _by Henry Clark_

For some reason, he’d thought writing that much down would help. All it did was make the headache worse.

He reached for his pills out of instinct, but stopped. They could have been contaminated as well.

Maybe if he wrote it as if it were a procedure report, the writing would go more smoothly.

 _Day one. Subject was witness to an explanation of the effects of Arestium on the NEXT body. Despite a previous conviction that he possessed no NEXT powers, the effects sounded quite familiar. Subject became curious and, being of a scientific nature, examined his surroundings for traces of Arestium._

 _Day three: Subject tested his migraine medication for Arestium, found it present. Dosage: 200mg, administered every hour._

He stopped typing. The pain in his head had grown so great that he had trouble focusing his eyes. Rubbing them behind his glasses, he forced himself to continue.

 _Also present were trace amounts of addictive narcotics. Evidence suggests that_

He deleted the last three words. The evidence would prove itself, or not. There was no need to speculate.

 _Day four: Subject made the decision to cease taking his medication. Migraines returned within the hour. What may be withdrawal symptoms from the narcotics are also present and observed._

 _Also I think I’m glowing._


	11. Into That Good Night

The floor under Kotetsu’s face was wet. He didn’t open his eyes to see what color the fluid was. He didn’t need to.

 _“I didn’t think I’d enjoy you so much.”_

His stomach convulsed, but there was nothing left to throw up. Ragged breaths hurt, on the inhale and exhale.

 _“Look who’s come to play with us! You don’t mind sharing, do you?”_

Something made a noise behind him, and Kotetsu choked off a scream.

“It’s all right. It’s me.”

It wasn’t all right. Yuri knew that. He knew Kotetsu knew that it wouldn’t be all right ever again.

 _“Please don’t make me watch.”_

 _“But he bleeds so pretty. Come have a taste. Now!”_

“I’m s--”

“Don’t apologize for anything he made you do.” Yuri’s voice was hollow, but not angry. “Can you sit up?”

“No.”

 _“You’re one of the ones who thinks he can shut it all out, right? Go to a happy place? Try it.”_

Kotetsu could feel the warmth of Yuri’s body next to his. Yuri would be lying face-down too, of course. He’d have to.

 _“Your turn. Don’t be shy, take the whip. If you do it gently, I’ll start cutting parts off of him.”_

“You lived through this before.”

“Yes.” Yuri sounded tired.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

 _“Look at you both, filthy slave sluts. I’m doing you a favor.”_

“Yuri.”

“I’m here.”

“Can you use your eyes?”

“Not in here.”

“Right, I knew that. Sorry.”

“Don’t ask me to kill you, Kotetsu. I promised I’d get us out of here.”

Kotetsu didn’t understand. Yuri couldn’t possibly want to live after the night they’d had.

 _A sentence grunted behind Yuri’s back as Kotetsu was forced to watch._

 _“You were tighter when you were thirteen.”_

“Kotetsu. Talk to me.”

“What should I say?” he answered dully.

“Tell me about something. Anything that isn’t...this.”

Kotetsu tried to remember a time before _this_. “I...I don’t...”

“Tell me about your favorite toy, when you were a kid.”

“Robot dog.” He forced the memory to the front of his mind. “You filled it up with water and it peed on the furniture. I thought it was the funniest thing I’d ever seen.”

“I remember those.” The hint of a smile crept into Yuri’s tone. “My mother hated them.”

“Yeah, mine too. My brother bought it for me for my birthday when I was seven.”

 _“Does it feel good to be down on all fours where you belong? Serving your master like a dog?”_

“Kotetsu, pay attention.” Yuri fumbled for his hand in the darkness, intertwining their fingers. “Did you ever have a pet?”

“Had a cat. I killed it by accident when my powers were still growing in.” He could feel the memories creeping back, seeping into the front of his mind. His hand started to quiver, and he bit his lip until it bled. “Y-you tell me something. Tell me what your father was like.”

“All the time?”

“Uh...tell me about your birthday.”

Yuri squeezed his hand. His fingers were warm, reassuring. “When I was ten, he told me he wouldn’t be able to make it home for my birthday. He was always busy fighting. I understood, but I missed him, too. I think I hadn’t seen him in a month or so. When I got up that morning, there was a present on the foot of my bed. Ice skates, just my size. It was cold, where we lived back then.

“I ran out to the lake and put them on, and my mom took pictures. I started skating, and when I turned around, my father was there, wearing skates, with a big smile on his face.” Yuri sighed, stroking his thumb over Kotetsu’s palm. “Later on he took me to the library and helped me study.”

“Study? On your birthday?”

“My parents thought school was important. Or maybe they just thought there was little chance I’d get through high school without showing powers. Either way, I’m glad they made me study then.”

“I never make Kaede study. I’m always trying to get her to spend time with me when she tries to do her homework.”

“She knows how much you love her, Kotetsu.”

“I know.”

“She’ll know that forever. This won’t matter.”

Kotetsu’s throat closed with emotion. “How do you know?”

“I know what it’s like to lose a father to his ideals. To someone else’s cruelty.” With a groan of pain, Yuri raised their joined fingers to his lips.

 _“What the fuck, a wedding ring? Does your wife know you like it up the--_ ”

“Tell me about your wife.”

"My wife?"

Yuri brushed his thumb against Kotetsu's wedding ring. "Tell me about her."

"You never asked before."

"Just..." Yuri hissed out a breath. "You mentioned her once, a year ago. I thought you might not want to talk about it. Tell me about her."

For the briefest of moments, Kotetsu couldn't remember her face. His breath hitched in panic, but the image rose in his mind after a moment. "Tomoe."

"Was she?"

"Huh?"

"Was she a whirlwind?"

Kotetsu's lips curved into a smile, and his bottom lip cracked and started to bleed. Such a small pain among the large ones was hardly worth noticing. "Yeah. She was one of those women who always knew what they wanted. Smart, beautiful, determined. I was so in love with her in high school."

"You were high school sweethearts?"

"Nah. I was too afraid that someone would find out about my powers to date in school. She had to come after me. I thought she'd hate me when she found out." He sighed, lost in memory.

"What was high school like?"

Kotetsu started to say it was typical, then remembered that Yuri had never attended. "I thought it was boring. I was never too good in school. Not like Kaede. She takes after her mother that way." He started to straighten up, but the pain drove him to the ground. "A-aah, that hurts."

"What hurts?"

"What doesn't?" Kotetsu gritted his teeth. "M-my back. That's the worst."

"Worse than your hand?"

Kotetsu's hand tightened on Yuri's. "Thanks for bringing it up. I don't know. What about you?"

"Oh, back."

"Not your--" Kotetsu bit off the rest of the sentence.

Yuri exhaled through his nose. "My ass, you mean? No. Back is worse."

Kotetsu was quiet for a moment. "Was he the worst?"

"What do you mean?"

"Brandt. Was he the worst who ever..."

"No."

Kotetsu felt bile at the back of his throat. "Tell me."

"You should distract yourself--"

"It's all right. It's not going to matter." Kotetsu laughed low and dark under his breath. "Who cares? We're going to die today anyway."

"Don't think like that."

"But we are. It's stupid to pretend anything else. I'm sure as hell not going to give in to any of his demands."

Yuri nodded, and only then did Kotetsu notice that he'd opened his eyes. Yuri's hair was plastered to his face with unnamable fluids, but his eyes were bright and keen. "Because no matter what they offer, it's not worth what they want."

"No." The muscles of Kotetsu's shoulders knotted, bulged, and he levered himself from the ground. "Because they lie. They have no reason to give us anything. They'll take our surrender and kill us after."

"Kotetsu..."

"It doesn't matter. Promise me."

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut. "Of course I won't give them anything."

"All right." Kotetsu sat back on his heels. His everywhere screamed with the pain, but he paid no attention. He caught his breath, pressing his broken fingers to his thigh to focus on the pain. "Not much longer. I don't want to sleep."

"Kotetsu, stop!" Yuri's voice was sharp with alarm.

"Get up, all right? I need your help. I need you to help me." He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to rub out the stains. "M-my hair. It's not...I need it to look better."

Yuri was saying something, but Kotetsu ignored him. Everything was so clear now. "It's fine," he said, no longer seeing the metal box. "I'll introduce you to Tomoe. She'll like you, probably. I know you'll like her."

Yuri tried to get up, but his arms gave out, and he flopped back to the ground with an agonized huff.

"I'm not sure how this is going to work," Kotetsu admitted. "I'd say you could share me, but she doesn't like sharing. Maybe you could take turns."

"Kotetsu."

"She's generous, though. And Kaede likes you, which is good." He could see the house they'd share now. It looked a lot like the one where he grew up.

"Kotetsu."

"Maybe we could all live together. Or...exist together, I suppose. What do you call it, when you're dead?" He could see the four of them living together. Kaede would have her own room, and the three adults would share a big, comfortable bed.

 _"Kotetsu!"_

That tone of voice broke through his hallucination like a bucket of icewater through the summer's warmth. Yuri's face was anguished, streaked with tears. "Stop it. Please. If you give up...you can't give up. Please. I need you."

The wall opened. Brandt’s leering face filled Kotetsu’s vision, and he nearly fell down.

“There are my pretty boys,” the Colonel breathed. “One at a time, now. The General has something to say to you.”

He caught Kotetsu by the collar and dragged him out, passing him off to another officer. The vision of Tomoe that had been so clear just a few seconds before evaporated, gone as though made of smoke, and he was left tortured and raw in a strange place.

Kotetsu didn’t know how he got back up to the General’s office. For all he knew, he passed out from the pain and had to be carried. All of a sudden, he was conscious of kneeling on the floor, in the same office as the previous day. “You can save your breath,” he wheezed. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any.”

“I lowballed you before.”

“I don’t care.”

“How would you like your wife back?”

“There’s nothing you can offer me that...”

A slow breath.

“What did you say?”

MacMillan cracked his neck. “Your wife. Kaburagi Tomoe. I believe she died?”

“Don’t say her name,” Kotetsu snarled. “You don’t have the right to even say her name.”

“If you’re going to be tiresome, I’ll have you gagged again. Bad enough that you’re bleeding on my carpet. Is that a no, on the gift of your wife back?”

Reason snapped in Kotetsu’s mind. He hurled himself at the General, hands curled into claws, determined to rip him limb from limb because _this man_ should _never_ be allowed to say Tomoe’s name, much less offer her back.

He got as far as the desk. Then MacMillan drew his pistol and held the barrel to Kotetsu’s head.

He froze.

“Good. Better.” MacMillan whipped the pistol to the side, cracking Kotetsu across the cheekbone and sending him back to the floor. “Now. I can have your wife returned to you.”

“She’s dead.”

“Doesn’t have to stay like that. Like your friend Edward.”

Kotetsu stared blankly up at the General, willing his words to make sense over the pounding nightmare in his skull.

MacMillan frowned. “Edward? Ivan Karelin’s dearest friend? My agent had him restored weeks ago.”

Seeing Kotetsu’s utter incomprehension, he pushed a button on his office phone. “Get me Vera.”

“You can’t bring people back to life.”

“No? You died, before we brought you here. You were shot in the lung.”

“Someone fixed me.”

“Yes. Good, isn’t she? Mia. They work so well together. Pity we’re losing Jo. That’s really the end for all of them. I’ve no use for part of the set.”

It seemed like the General thought he was making sense. Kotetsu shut his eyes. It didn’t matter what MacMillan offered. He’d promised Yuri. He’d promised himself.

“Vera. I thought you returned the Keddy boy to life. Yes? Hmm. Find out. Immediately.” He hung up the phone, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can’t wait to do away with her,” he muttered to himself. “Now. Kaburagi. We aren’t actually returning anyone to life. Jo can manipulate time under extremely specific circumstances. Then Mia heals the victim, and Rhea creates a fake body to die in place of the real one. The victim is returned to the present safe and sound, and history is preserved.”

MacMillan was talking nonsense. “I don’t want any of it. I’ll see her soon enough anyway.”

“You think your friend will make the same choice?”

“Yes.”

“What if I offer his parents back?”

Kotetsu shook his head. “Won’t matter. He’s stronger than that. Nothing could break him.”

MacMillan nodded. “Very well.” He pushed yet another button, and the two officers from earlier entered to grab Kotetsu by the collar. “Take him to the press room, and the other one when I’m done with him. Tell the camera crew we’ll do the execution in half an hour.”

They dragged him past Yuri, on his way in. He tried to say something, but couldn’t squeeze the words through his battered throat as they yanked him by his neck.

Yuri nodded anyway. “Soon,” he mouthed, and disappeared into the General’s office.

Soon.


	12. Curse, Bless Me Now

Edward tied back his hair, making sure none of it escaped to create a distraction. “I’m not comfortable with asking you to do this,” he said, wrapping the tie three, four times around.

“It’s fine.” Ivan switched out the half-empty clip in his gun, then replaced it with a full one. He checked to make sure he had spares, then checked his other guns in their holsters.

Edward worried at his bottom lip. “You’re so...you’re really different from before, Ivan.”

Ivan paused, slipping a pistol back into his shoulder holster. “Am I?”

“Yeah. You used to hate killing.”

Ivan shrugged. “You were gone for a year. I had to protect myself.”

“Well, sure, but--”

“There was too much at stake to be squeamish. Like now.” Ivan hated the way Edward was looking at him. _Like I’m a murderer. Like I’m not the same Ivan he used to know._ “I’m still me, okay?”

“Are you?”

 _Don’t leave me don’t leave me don’t leave me._ “Y-you want to quiz me on code words?”

Edward shook his head. “No. But I’d like to see you smile once in a while.”

Ivan looked out at the vast field of the army, stretching between the two young men and their destination. “Maybe when we have something to smile about again. Let’s go.”

Five minutes later, a gray-haired officer approached a young sergeant. “Sergeant.”

“Sir!”

“I need to see you inside for a moment.”

“Yes, sir!”

Ivan used the knife. It was quieter than the gun, and just as easy when the target wasn’t expecting it.  He took the keys from the dead sergeant, and tossed them over his shoulder without looking. Seconds later, he heard a key being fitted into a lock, and a metal collar hitting the floor. Then another, and another, and another.

Edward glided back through the tent wall, jangling the keys. “One section down.”

“Again.”

A young sergeant approached a middle-aged officer, hefty around the midsection.

They freed seventeen NEXT.

A career fighter pilot realized just in time, and Ivan had to use one of his guns.

They freed a dozen NEXT, one of whom was a Class-G. It was difficult to convince her not to blow a hole in the nearest wall out of vengeance. “Use that,” they told her. “But wait until it’s time.”

A man with two stripes on his shoulder put up a fight. Edward, ever ready as backup, came up through the floor within half a second.

They freed fifteen NEXT. “Act normal,” they said, and the NEXT wore their collars unfastened, pretended servility.

They walked in on a man with two NEXT children, a girl and a boy. Ivan killed him quickly, but neither he nor Edward was very happy about it. Edward gave the boy his jacket, and Ivan held the girl until she stopped crying.

They moved like silence, like the darkness in every corner. Ivan was everyone, and Edward was impossible to see. Within an hour, they freed a hundred of their fellow NEXT, whispered words of encouragement and rebellion in every ear.

Ivan discharged clip after clip. He had to stop and wipe off the handle of his knife when it got too wet with blood for a good grip. Every time, he wondered if he could really go through with it. Every time, seeing the keys in the man’s hand, knowing what they represented, he knew he could. Did.

Maybe later Edward would push him up against the wall and take him rough, tangle a hand in his hair and bite his neck and tell him he loved him, and maybe then he’d feel something again besides anger and cold. Maybe then he’d remember how to feel guilty for taking so many lives.

Maybe he’d never feel guilty.

It was three hours before the first corpse was discovered. Ivan had just finished dispatching a Captain when the alarm went up in the camp, a siren that cut through all ambient sound. “Scatter,” he muttered to Edward, and they both vanished. Edward sank into the ground, and Ivan formed himself into the very man he’d just killed, strolling nonchalantly out of the tent to demand answers from a subordinate.

“Must be about the execution,” the young officer said. “Kaburagi and Petrov.”

Ivan’s throat went dry, and he fought to stay in control of the borrowed body. _He’s talking like I know. He’s talking like I just received a memo. Play it safe, Ivan._

“I’ll be in my tent,” he said shortly, and returned to the place he’d left the Captain’s body. He searched the table, and found what he was looking for: a brief notice that the execution of Kaburagi and Petrov would be televised at midnight that day, at the same time the Army would commence the destruction of Sternbild.

He didn’t have to look down to notice the ground stirring. Edward was never far away. “We have until midnight,” he said. “That’s how long we have to make it right.”

Edward’s head rose out of the floor. “Okay. Are you scared?”

“Yeah. Is that...is that okay?”

“You’re only asking now?” Edward’s voice was amused, but kind. “Of course it’s okay. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you.”

It wasn’t a promise Edward could make in good faith. It never had been. Edward had always lied, always sworn more than he could possibly deliver. Edward would keep him safe. Edward would stop the humans from enslaving him. Edward would never let anyone else hurt him, ever again.

He’d said it after every bad thing that had ever happened; after Ivan got his powers, after his father left, after the first time he’d walked in on Ivan on his knees to keep his secret safe. He’d stroke Ivan’s hair, whisper the lies into his ear, hold him as if things were actually going to be good.

Ivan didn’t mind. He preferred the lies. He was going to get hurt either way; NEXT always did. At least this way, he spent some time feeling safe and loved before it happened. “Okay. I trust you.”

After all, that was a lie, too.

 


	13. There on the Sad Height

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Oh, me? Uh, n-no."

"Thanks." Henry Clark, immaculate in his white coat over designer clothes, took a seat on the wall. "We haven't spoken much, but I know you from the council meetings."

"Oh? Uh, me too."

"You're a NEXT. A shapeshifter, right?"

"That's right."

Clark interlaced his fingers, looking out over the broad expanse of the army. His eyes were creased with pain, his jaw constantly clenched. "It can't be easy. Your parents must not have wanted you to be a NEXT."

Had they? "Probably not." It seemed like a safe enough answer.

"Can I call you Ivan? Or do you prefer Mr. Karelin?"

"Um, Ivan's fine," Kaede said, trying to remember how Ivan's shoulders looked when he was nervous. Hunched over, like so. Like he was drawing himself in, trying to melt into the floor.

"What about you, Mr. Goodman? How did your parents take the news?"

Keith stretched out his legs. He did a terrible job pretending he didn't care about Mr. Clark, Kaede thought with dismay. She was a better liar than he was, and she was only eleven. His eyes were fixed on every move the young scientist made, wide with pathetic hope every time he spoke. She remembered what her dad had told her about Clark:

"He was Keith's friend, all our friend. He got hurt bad a few years ago, and lost his memory and his powers."

Kaede had only had her powers for a year, and she already couldn't imagine losing them. How much harder would it be for someone like Mr. Clark, who her dad said had had them since he was a little baby? No wonder he always looked like he had a headache.

"I got my powers late," Keith said, tearing his eyes away to scan the horizon. "I was eighteen. My family wanted to go into hiding, but the police found me first. I wasn't very good at hiding what I could do. I tried, but I failed, and failed again. Kotetsu and Tomoe bought me from the market along with--"

He stopped talking abruptly, flushing red and staring at Clark.

 _Oh my god, he's the worst liar!_ Kaede hoped she wasn't showing how distressed she was. It would have been funny, if it weren't so awkward.

"Along with?" Clark prompted.

"Um. Along with...um....no one."

Kaede covered her face with her hands. "Keith," she said in Ivan's voice, making sure to keep the tone correct, "what happened to your parents after Kotetsu and Tomoe bought you?" Anything to keep him from talking about his old friend Barnaby.

He looked startled. "Haven't I told you this story before, Ivan? In fact, weren't you there?"

 _Darn!_

"I haven't heard it," Clark put in, and Kaede let out a sigh of relief.

"Right, my apologies. That is, I met Ivan and Edward when Kotetsu freed me, and they helped me search out my family. We found they had left Sternbild."

"And?"

Keith was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, he said, "They didn't want to know me anymore. It was difficult for them to have a NEXT son. But they are living happily and safely, and I'm glad for that," he said, finishing with a smile. "They owned a couple slaves, but Edward and Ivan and I convinced my parents to set them free."

"What kind of slaves?"

"You should know, you were--" Keith cut himself off again, flustered.

 _I can't keep changing the subject! It's going to look suspicious!_ "Mr. Clark, tell us something about science, would--"

The first bomb went off.

The world went white-hot and soundless, and Kaede felt her heart stop beating for a second.

Then sense returned. The wall shook and quaked, shrapnel fell everywhere, and sound exploded around them. Kaede expected to feel broken shards cutting into her, but the whirling breeze Keith whipped up on the spot kept most of the debris from hitting anyone. "Get down!" Keith yelled over the noise, and Kaede hit the floor with Ivan's body.

Keith was already in the air, jet pack flaming to life a second after the wind swept him up. A few seconds later, Kaede saw a blast of air shatter a second projectile. It exploded in midair, along with two other bursts that collided with the head wave from the first.

Kaede scrambled to the edge of the wall, wishing desperately that she had anyone else's power, anyone but Ivan's. Another bomb came in low under Keith's range, and the wall shuddered and groaned.

Keith flew, but there was only one of him. Kaede saw the tanks lining up, saw their barrels flash. The other Class-H NEXT were still assembling, still trying to figure out how to fight an entire army.

A quick look to the side showed Kaede the scientist Mr. Clark, his hands clenched tightly together, his eyes on Keith. He tracked the darting figure, anxiety making him worry at his lip, confused concern suffusing his face. She knew that look. It was the one on her own face, whenever her father went out to do something dangerous. For that matter, it was the one on her face right now, watching Keith narrowly avoid a third blast of bullets.

 

*

 

Something struck his shoulder--there was no time to find out what. Henry Clark lay prostrate on the ground, broken bits of wall falling all around, taking hit after painful hit, his eyes fixed on the darting, weaving figure.

 _Keith, oh god, Keith._

The suit Keith was wearing--his aunt and uncle had designed it. It would hold up to a lot of stress, like bullets from a handgun.

 _Not military rounds. Need full armor for that, and we don’t have it. He wouldn’t wear it anyway--he hates flying slow._

A stabbing pain shot through his head. It was easier not to think about Keith--about the things--why did he remember them anyway?--he shouldn’t know that Keith hated flying slow. Usually he shied away from the pain, pushing those fake memories--they felt so real--out of his head, retreating into what he knew was true.

 _But what if it isn’t true?_

Keith jerked suddenly, and the young scientist cried out. But the next second Keith was up again, soaring higher, leading the bullets away from Sternbild--playing decoy. He wasn’t so fast that he could avoid them all, though. Henry knew that, deep down. No one was that fast.

Caring about Keith hurt. It hurt physically, pressing against parts of his brain that shouldn’t even exist. It was easier to call him Mr. Goodman, easier not to wonder why he had such vivid mental images to go with the man’s story of slavery and rescue, easier not to remember--

 _“Are you Keith’s mother?”_

 _The woman was blonde, perfectly coiffed, with a calculating expression nothing like her son’s. He learned everything he needed to know by the way her lip drew back as she asked, “You’re like him, aren’t you?”_

No! Because he was Henry Clark, not a NEXT, and his parents had died--

 _His parents were in the audience, raising their hands, begging, pleading with the auctioneer not to go any higher, they were already mortgaging the house, already couldn’t pay for his sister’s college if they were going to bid fifty thousand on their son--_

“Mr. Clark!” The voice belonged to Ivan--Mr. Karelin-- _Ivan, you know him, you fought alongside him, remember when you met--_

 _Ivan was shy, content to let his redheaded friend do the talking. Barnaby wrote him off as not-too-bright at first._

 _Then, he saw the kid in action. Fast as lightning, accurate to a millimeter, and apologized afterwards for his uselessness._

“Mr. Clark!” Ivan yelled again, but it didn’t sound like Ivan’s voice. He was watching Keith, a sick, worried look on his face. “You have to help him! Please!”

“What? Why me? I can’t do anything!”

“You have to use your powers!”

Henry-- _not my name_ \--thought his brain was going to split open. “I...I don’t have any...”

 _Running with Kotetsu--_

 _“I never met anyone who could keep up with me before.” A cheeky grin._

 _“I still haven’t met anyone who could keep up with me.”_

 _“Hey!” But Kotetsu wasn’t angry._

“No, I’m not a--”

 _“What am I bid for this fine specimen?”_

 _“Let’s see him in action!”_

 _Forced--with Keith--a show, for the buyers. A fight. Sex. Keith assured him afterwards that he’d enjoyed it._

 _He always was a terrible liar._

“Please, Mr. Clark, you have to! You have to help him!”

Ivan’s face was streaked with dirt and tears. He’d seen it like that before--no, couldn’t have--had, of course he had, Ivan was always crying about something--

 _“--don’t bother, he’s always crying about something.”_

 _Barnaby had no patience for the kid. This was a hard life, fighting underground. Why had Edward dragged someone so fragile into it? “Just turn yourself in,” he advised. “Better to be a rich lady’s pet than--”_

 _Ivan’s eyes flashed angry violet. Kotetsu whacked him over the head and Edward shouted, but all Barnaby remembered was the quiet, fierce, “Never.”_

Henry Clark--Barnaby-- _no!_ \--gripped at his head, the pain too intense to open his eyes. He could hear Ivan yelling at him, but it was a different pain than usual.

Not the pain he was used to--and why did it feel so much like how that NEXT described Arestium? This was a throbbing, aching stab at the back of his skull as if he’d been hit.

He had, he remembered. There was a bat--no, a rock had hit him.

And Kotetsu--

 _No, it was Ivan on the wall._

 _Kotetsu was grinning, because they’d won. Barnaby felt his power slip away after the time limit expired. He turned, smiling back, and opened his mouth to congratulate the older man._

 _He saw Kotetsu’s eyes widen in slow motion, saw his mouth move, saw his hand start._

 _He could have sworn he felt the wind from the bat--the last man, the one he’d thought had run away--and the metal was cold when it cracked against his skull. He knew it, but it didn’t make any sense, because you weren’t supposed to feel a fatal blow. You were supposed to know sharp pain, and then nothing at all._

 _He didn’t._

 _He knew the pain, but it was so sharp and so white and so bright it didn’t feel like anything. His eyes stayed open as he fell out the window, plummeting to what was surely death._

 _But he woke up._

 _When he did his parents were there. His mother was pale. His father had obviously been weeping. There were beeping machines and fluids coursing through tubes, and a man he hardly recognized saying, “It’s for the best, Emily. You said all you wanted was to have him back.”_

 _Then a hand reached for his face, and Barnaby Brooks Jr. died._

And breathed again.

He cried out, but not in pain. For the first time in years, there was no pain. His head felt light, curiously empty, as if he’d burst out of whatever prickling shackles had held it captive. He looked again at Ivan, and knew instantly that he was an impostor. But that wasn't the most important thing in his mind.

Keith--his Keith, his best friend, who was so bad at lying but so good at pretending he was fine--soared and spun amid a hail of bullets and rocket-powered grenades. He controlled the winds, changing the trajectory of the projectiles to force them into colliding with each other.

He didn’t see the one coming up from behind.

Barnaby did.

He activated his power as easily as breathing, as easy as it had always been, back when he’d known who he was, and launched himself at the woman braced against the wall. He struck her just as the missile left her hand, moving fast enough that the wind discharge split the air and careened wildly off course. The woman fell from the wall in a tangle of long legs and blonde hair.

For a second, Barnaby considered letting her fall to her death, crushed against Sternbild's cold pavement. He wasn't entirely sure why he leapt after her, grabbed her around the waist, and caught one of the fire escape bars on the way down.

"I don't have time to deal with you right now," he hissed, and tossed her through an open window. "Stay. I'll be back. If you're not here, I'll find you." He didn't even try to make it sound unthreatening.

One strong leap took him back to the top of the wall. Another took him to the bottom, and to the tanks. None of the barrels could stand up to one of his kicks, and he bent them one after the other, whacking them into useless tangles of metal. He took a savage delight in wrenching them around. Shoot at his friends, would they? Try to enslave him again, would they? That old anger boiled up inside him, and it was shocking how good it felt to have that power back.

Three balls of air shot past his head. Instinct took over. He leapt into the air, flinging his arms out to his sides.

He hung in the sky for a brief second at the top of his parabola, a half second pause between the ascent and the fall. Then, as he knew they would, Keith's arms hooked under his own. "You remembered the signal!" his friend shouted. "I was afraid you had forgotten that as well as me!"

 _I didn't forget you,_ he wanted to say, but it wasn't true. He hadn't wanted to. Then, he remembered the impostor. "The wall, back to the wall! We have to get to Ivan!"

"You're almost out of time!"

"Keith, it's important! Go!"

They sped back toward the wall. The missiles had stopped with the destruction of the tanks, but bullets from handguns and rifles still followed their path. None of them penetrated the whirlwind Keith had called, protecting them all the way back to the tiny blond figure.

Barnaby hit the wall harder than he'd expected, enough to send him rolling in a somersault. He scrambled to his feet, just as the last of his power drained away. "Keith, what--"

As soon as he turned, he saw why Keith had dropped him. His friend lay on the ground in a crumpled, unmoving heap.

Ivan let out a cry, but it was a little girl’s voice forcing its way through his throat, and before Barnaby could think of a snippy comment about that Ivan had changed. Now he was a little girl, one that Barnaby only half-knew, but Henry Clark had been familiar with. He could still access the scientist’s memories, still remember everything that had happened during those few years, but it was fuzzy. It was as if he were looking through someone else’s eyes when he remembered Kotetsu introducing his daughter with that combination of pride and sheepishness only he could pull off.

She was yelling Keith’s name, turning him over, and it was only then that Barnaby saw the blood. He remembered, through that vague, confusing filter of Henry Clark, seeing Keith jerk in midair.

 _No. He kept going. He was fine, damn it!_

Keith, always good at pretending he was fine. It was the only kind of lying he knew how to do.

Barnaby wasn’t sure when he’d started to move. All of a sudden he was kneeling at Keith’s side, cradling his friend’s head.

Keith smiled up at him. “You remembered me.”

“Of course.” It didn’t make any sense that Keith was smiling, not when he was bleeding so much.

“I...I’m glad. I wanted you to. I missed you.” The words were simple, like the man speaking them. Keith’s eyes closed, but the smile stayed on his face.

Barnaby didn’t really notice the girl grab his arm, then run off. He didn’t really notice her glowing blue a few moments later. He didn’t really notice the swarm of NEXT on the ground, clustered in front of the army, throw off their useless collars and riot.

Everyone noticed the clock striking midnight.


	14. Good Men, The Last Wave By

They let him kneel next to Yuri. Somehow, Kotetsu found the strength to be grateful for that. He rested his shoulder against Yuri’s, regretting only that the manacles wouldn’t let him take Yuri’s hand.

“I’m sorry.” The words were quiet, hoarse, spoken under Yuri’s breath. The younger man’s hair hung limply around his face, obscuring it from view. “I promised to get us out of here. I’m sorry.”

“Wasn’t your job. We tried. Hey,” Kotetsu said gently, nudging his shoulder, “we knew this could happen. We knew it probably would.”

Yuri shook his head mutely, but Kotetsu could feel him shaking.

“It’ll be over soon.” It was the only comfort he could give.

Yuri said something, too quiet for Kotetsu to hear. He leaned forward as inconspicuously as possible. “What?”

“I’ll have time. For one.” Yuri’s lips barely moved. “Where do you want it to go?”

Kotetsu fell silent, thinking.

“You know what--”

“I know what you mean. Can they harm you?”

Yuri closed his eyes. “Not anymore.”

“Send it at him.”

Yuri twitched a little, shoulders tensing in a way that no one would have seen unless they were as close as Kotetsu. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He could see the doctors priming the massive syringes, getting ready to inject liquid Arestium into their necks. Unlike the execution Kotetsu had imagined, a swift bullet to the back of the head, the grinning Brandt had informed him that this would be slow. Drawn-out. An example, he said. A testimonial to the inhumanity of NEXT, he said. Not to be televised like their dead bodies would be. This would be special, circulated among the elite, those in the know, and the scientists who had never gotten to torture a real life Class-H to death before.

Yuri would have time for one blast of fire, he estimated, before they retaliated. It was anyone’s guess as to whether they would kill Kotetsu first as punishment, or just go straight for Yuri.

Selfishly, Kotetsu hoped they’d shoot him first. But if they could get Brandt along the way...well, it’d be worth it, no matter what happened.

Kotetsu settled back onto his heels, breathing deeply. The cameras were rolling, the General making speeches, the scientists testing and checking data. Soon, it would be over. Soon, he’d see Tomoe.

 _Not yet._

The voice was small, but insistent.

 _Not yet. I don’t want to go yet._

A spark of rebellion, standing out brightly amid the dark, cool acceptance, flared in his gut. He tried to ignore it. It was better this way, after all. He’d see Tomoe. He’d die for his cause, next to his....

His....

Partner? Lover? Friend? They’d never put a word to it. It was something Kotetsu had wanted to do, wanted to talk about.

For that matter, it was something he still wanted to talk about.

“Hey,” he said, nudging Yuri’s shoulder.  “What are we, exactly?”

One blue-green eye cracked open, incredulous. “Is now really the time for existential angsting? I suppose I can’t fault your logic, but--”

“Not that. I mean you and me. Boyfriends sounds a little young, don’t you think?”

He knew it was stupid and childish, but he wanted to know. It was left undone. He hated things left undone.

And just like that, the calm acceptance vanished. Tomoe had been waiting for years, after all. There were still so many things he wanted to accomplish, things he just wanted to see and do and experience. He still wanted to embarrass Kaede in front of her first boyfriend. He still wanted to find the rest of the names on his list of captive NEXT. And yeah, he still wanted to try going down on Yuri. Not a big want, in the scheme of things, but it was enough.

She’d told him to make her wait a long time. _Am I just going to give up on that promise?_

 _No._

He’d broken a lot of Arestium collars, in his day. They bent easily under his power; despite Arestium’s natural anti-NEXT properties, it was still only metal. If he could use his power, even a little of it, he knew exactly where to apply pressure to be rid of the damned thing.

Of course, the collar itself was the thing keeping him from using his power.

Well, that was too bad. Kotetsu was tired and hurting and didn’t feel like playing by the rules. “Hey,” he said, under his breath again. “Changed my mind. Send it at me.”

 

*

 

Ivan and Edward made it in time. Ivan knew they would. This wasn’t a race, and honestly, he had no idea what he was going to do at the finish line.

“I can’t be with you inside,” Edward had said, with a quick squeeze of his hand.

“I know.”

Edward was near; Ivan could always tell when Edward was near. He was in the wall Ivan leaned against, let him know with the faintest brush of sand against his cheek.

Against someone’s cheek, anyway. Ivan wasn’t entirely sure whose form he was wearing; one of the men he’d killed recently had looked important enough to attend the execution. Other men in uniform nodded to him and muttered, “Colonel.”

Ivan forced himself not to let out a single noise, not to grab the wall for support when his eyes fell on the couple at the other end of the room. In all his years of working with Kotetsu, he’d never seen two people who were still alive despite being so... _mangled_. Kotetsu--brave, strong, friendly Kotetsu, who had looked out for Ivan like his father never had--was a mess. He looked wasted, sunken-eyed, and Ivan had to focus on his face to avoid looking at what had happened to his body.

 _Focus, Ivan._ It sounded, oddly enough, like Kotetsu’s voice in his mind, calming him down. He did focus, narrowing his consciousness to the things that would be most relevant to an attempted rescue.

At least twenty men with guns, mostly clustered near the entrance. A group of scientists tapped syringes, discussed predicted outcomes with varying degrees of excitement. One man, who wore similar insignia to Ivan’s borrowed body, was running a finger over the barrel of his gun, a demonic smile tugging at his lips.

No, Ivan realized, it wasn’t the barrel of a gun. It was the handle of a whip. Suddenly, the marks he’d been trying to avoid seeing on his friends’ bodies made a lot more horrible sense. He didn’t want to think about what kind of military man would carry a whip around at all times. At the look of that smile, he knew he didn’t have to wonder. He’d run into that sort of man, twice that he could remember. The first time, he and Edward had run, fast and far and hadn’t stopped until their legs gave out. The second time, it was Kotetsu that had saved him.

Then a quick beeping reminder told Ivan, as well as everyone else in the room, that midnight had fallen. He had no idea how they were going to get their friends out of this, but that didn’t change the fact that it was time.

He started to move at the same time as the scientists with their massive syringes, then stopped abruptly. 

Kotetsu was smiling.

 


	15. Rage, Rage

There was no time to argue. There was no way for him to convince Yuri of his idea. He’d just have to wait, and hope that Yuri understood, that Yuri trusted him.

He also had to hope he wasn’t making his last mistake.

The scientist stepped forward, nothing but intellectual curiosity in a fascinating specimen on his face. Kotetsu saw the massive syringe in his hand, and shut his eyes. “Now,” he whispered.

There was the briefest moment of hesitation, and Kotetsu’s thoughts ran wildly out of control. _He can’t do it. He didn’t understand. At least Brandt will die. Maybe Yuri does love me._

Then the fire roasted the air in his lungs. It lanced out from Yuri’s eyes, sharp and bright as a strip of liquid sun, hot enough that it seared every part of his skin, and he screamed with the pain. His body’s instinctive reaction, to flee the thing killing him, was strong enough to send him to the floor in a heap.

Everything happened at once. He heard the firing of a gun--more than one. He heard the snarl of someone close by, screams of confusion, of terror, heard cameras clicking.

Kotetsu paid no attention. As soon as he’d felt that first startling burst of fire slam into his neck, his hands were already moving. They came up to grab the collar, wrench the twisted molten metal away from his neck. Parts of it clung to his skin, melted onto it, and he nearly blacked out from the pain. Ruthlessly, not willing to have a single scrap of the stuff touching his body, he ripped that away too and activated his powers.

The power coursed through him, lending strength to weary muscles, healing welts and gouges, fueling his adrenaline, his natural desire to grab something in his bare hands and _rip_ and _tear_ and _claw_ until there was nothing left of it. He caught a glimpse of the fear in one man's eyes--Brandt's eyes--and threw back his head and _roared_.

Next to him, on the ground, Yuri was laughing. Kotetsu saw more metal pooling on the ground in front of him. He only had a split second to think, _How hot must his flames be, to melt bullets?_ before the gunmen finished reloading.

Kotetsu grabbed the nearest thing he could use as a weapon, which happened to be the podium, and hurled it at the crowd of soldiers hard enough to smash through solid rock. It shattered with a satisfying _crunch_ , and men fell like dominoes. Kotetsu never stopped, grabbing the next thing to hand--one of the scientists--and using him like a club. Savage glee ran through him, his teeth bared in a snarl, a feral, inhuman noise escaping through his lips.

They wouldn’t make it, he was sure. There were too many men, and they were in the heart of the Army.

Still, this was how he wanted to go out--on his feet, fighting, the way Mr. Legend had. Not a lab rat, not a beaten-down slave, but a hero.

Well, “hero” might be asking a bit much of history. Kotetsu would settle for “angry man with superpowers.”

He paused only to tear the collar away from Yuri’s neck, then leaped back as Yuri...the only word for it was “ignited.” Everything in a ten-foot radius erupted into blue-green flame, hot and bright and searing to the eyes.

The building shook, either with Kotetsu’s destructive rampage or the damage from Yuri’s flames. Belatedly, Kotetsu remembered that there were other cells, other people inside. He tore down the hallway--literally, scattering tiles and boards wherever his feet fell--and punched open one door after another, taking a ferocious delight in the way the metal groaned and buckled under his might.

He didn’t stop to pull the collars and manacles off each prisoner. There wasn’t time. But he caved in door after door, moving so fast each hit took a fraction of a second before he was on to the next one. Alarms sounded from everywhere. Sprinklers rained down from the ceiling, trying in vain to put out Yuri’s spreading flames.

Satisfied that he’d punched in every door that needed punching, Kotetsu took the easy way back to the conference room--straight down out the window he’d tried to jump through the day before.

The building wasn’t on fire; Yuri’s flames were so well-contained that they only burned what he intended.

Shockingly, given everything he’d been through, Yuri was on his feet. More than that, he was whole, skin scarred but unbroken, and moved with no trace of pain. He stood over a limp figure, holding a gun. “Again,” he said.

That was when Kotetsu saw the children. Pale and wraith-like, they hovered behind Yuri like he was a protective spirit. The boy Jo glowed, and for a heartbeat nothing happened. Then the body on the ground twitched and groaned, and Kotetsu recognized Brandt. He snarled, leaping forward, as Yuri shot the man in the head.

Kotetsu couldn’t help but feel a little put-out. Yuri had already killed him? Without waiting so they could do it together?

Yuri looked up, catching sight of Kotetsu, and grinned. “You want a turn? Again,” he said to the boy.

The strain on the child’s face was nearly as evident as the pleasure. The NEXT flickered, and Brandt moved again.

“He likes to hurt us,” said the girl, Mia. She was standing next to Kotetsu all of a sudden, laying cool fingers on his back. “He always liked to hurt us. Especially Jo. Then me made me heal him up so the General wouldn’t find out.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?” Kotetsu held the girl’s strange eyes as she healed him. “You three are more powerful than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s got the power to stop time. Why not just leave?”

“Papa would be so mad.” Mia ran a finger down the collar on her neck. Up close, Kotetsu could read her name engraved on the metal.

Brandt tried to move, and Yuri shot him again. “Oops,” he said, not sounding contrite in the least. “My hand slipped. Kotetsu, if you want a turn, you’d better take it soon. It’s far too tempting to leave him dead.”

Yuri was wrong. The temptation wasn’t to leave Brandt dead. The temptation, the clawing, starving beast inside Kotetsu’s heart, was the desire to  _rip_ and _mangle_ and tear the man apart with his bare hands, to stuff something down his throat and make him choke and cry, to rip the skin from his flesh and the flesh from his bones and light the whole mess on fire _one piece at a time._ He felt lightheaded with the rage, the fury, the hurt at what had been done to him, to Yuri, to the pale-eyed boy who kept bringing Brandt back. Every time he tried to say, “No, we’re better than this,” the words stuck in his throat. He could hear Brandt’s voice in his ear, calling him names. He could feel the man’s hands on him, pressing a finger into a welt on his back, making him shiver and scream. He could see Brandt over Yuri, a hand fisted in pale hair, profaning, making dirty, something that was supposed to be good and loving.

And what of the boy Yuri had been? Kotetsu had little trouble imagining a child of thirteen with a heavy collar and tortured eyes, forced to please a sadistic monster like Brandt until his back was a raw mess, until he was _trained_ , until even fifteen years later he couldn’t relax and let himself go with a lover. Didn’t that boy deserve revenge as well?

There would never be enough revenge. Kotetsu knew that, deep in a dark part of his heart he managed to ignore almost every day. “Am I done?” he asked the girl quietly, and she nodded.

He took Yuri in his arms, careful not to get in the way of those fiery eyes. “Just let him die. It’s enough that he’s not going to hurt you again.”

“No, it isn’t!”

“I know.” Kotetsu did know. That didn’t make it any more right to keep killing the man over and over—though it did feel _good_. Something occurred to him, and he looked around. “Where’s the General?”

“Papa left.”

Kotetsu and Yuri spun around, staring at the third child, Rhea. “He went that way,” she said, pointing north. “With a couple men." 

“ _Papa_?”

 

*

 

First, the General tried to get away in his Jeep.

It was amazing what a little sand in the gas tank could do.

Then, he commandeered the last truck leaving, fleeing the wave of angry NEXT, fleeing the fury of Kotetsu and Yuri.

Only one man on the truck was expecting the lurch. Ivan, wearing another man’s face, was the only one braced for impact. It was easy, with the foreknowledge of when the tires would be shot out, to make sure the General was the one flying out of the truck.

MacMillan rolled to a stop, dazed by the fall. Ivan hopped out of the truck, letting it spin over on its side, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “General?” he asked in his own voice, wearing his own face. “I’m going to need you to come back to Sternbild with me.”

It would have been easy to kill the man, but that wouldn’t be fitting. That wouldn’t be making it right.

The General lay in a heap, and Ivan felt a twinge of misgiving. Had the fall killed MacMillan? Ivan doubted it, but the General wasn’t a young man. “General? I’m arresting you. You won’t be harmed if—“

The General moved fast for an old man, fast enough that Ivan barely had time to register the movement before the gun went off. Pain flared red-bright-hot-burst in his side, and everything went sideways.

No, that was out of order. First, everything had gone sideways, because Edward had erupted from the ground, tackling him. _Then_ the pain had come, grazing the side of his belly instead of rupturing his chest.

The others were coming—men poured out of the overturned truck, heading for the fallen General and the two NEXT. Ivan wanted to run, to hide, like he always did when everything got far too real, far too fast.

Edward’s hands held him, strong, and warm. “Ivan. Calm. We can do this.”

 _But what if we can’t? What if we lose and I lose you again or we die?_

Edward believed in him, in them. Suddenly, the soldiers looked very far away, and moving very slowly. “Go,” he said, and they moved as one.

Without the gun, without the thousands at his command, General MacMillan was just an old, somewhat overweight, gray-haired man. He might have been a good shot, but MacMillan was no marksman, no sniper, and Ivan kicked the gun out of his hand without gathering any more holes in his body.

It helped that Edward seeped up from the ground beneath the man, grabbing and pinning his arms.

The General came quietly once disarmed, carrying himself with offended dignity. They commandeered a vehicle easily enough; it wasn’t difficult while Ivan was holding a gun to the General’s head.

Ivan saw the command center, the place he had found Kotetsu and Yuri, explode into a smoldering heap. In his memory, a newly-freed NEXT begged them for the right to blow something up. _Looks like she found her niche_.

“What will you do with me?” The General’s voice was calm, unafraid.

Ivan gritted his teeth. “We should do what you were going to do to our friends.” He would have nightmares about that room, that press conference, where people stood around and discussed the many ways they were going to torture and kill his friends.

He didn’t think it was important to let the General know, right at that moment, that they wouldn’t do anything of the sort. As Kotetsu had said, they had to be the good guys. The good guys didn’t take revenge like that. If Sternbild was going to be the kind of place Kotetsu thought it could be, men like General MacMillan couldn’t be force-fed their own words, their own hypocrisy. 

Besides, no matter what his motives had been, the General had been responsible for Edward coming back. It wasn’t enough to make up for decades of enslaving innocents, of oppressing those who had been born different—but to Ivan, it was his world.


	16. Now with Your Fierce Tears, I Pray

It was an odd sort of party, not one like anyone had ever attended before. Then again, Kotetsu thought with a smile, how many times had a nation of free NEXT been created?

“You ever see anything like this?” he asked, twining his fingers around Yuri’s with the hand not holding a champagne flute.

“Like the parade? Or like Sternbild?”

“Either.”

“You know I haven’t. Neither of them have ever existed before.”

“I never knew so many NEXT had such flashy powers.” Kotetsu’s eyes wandered over a girl lit up like fireworks, a middle-aged man who sang like a twenty-piece orchestra, a pair of twins who juggled with eight arms apiece.

“They’re the ones who have to hide.”

“Not anymore.”

“Not here,” Yuri corrected, but gently.

It was enough. Kotetsu hadn’t liked bargaining with the lives of the soldiers—thousands of men and women, their existence like so many cards in his hand—but he’d liked the idea of another invasion even less. And really, they hadn’t asked for so much. What was Sternbild, really, except twenty square miles?

That was how the President had seen the matter, evidently. There had been red tape, and a mountain of paperwork, but Etienne lived for that sort of thing and Yuri was good at it. They only needed his signature sometimes, as acting Mayor. He’d flatly refused to accept any higher office, insisting that he was messing up enough as Mayor.

“Even the kids are here,” he said, pointing to the trio standing wide-eyed, watching the parade.

“They’ll disappear again soon.”

“You didn’t consider asking them for anything? Not even your father back?”

Yuri’s mouth tightened. “Of course I thought about it. But...my father died wanting something other for NEXT than slavery. If we just used those children for their gifts, we’d be no better than MacMillan.”

“I guess.”

Yuri squeezed his hand. “You didn’t ask for Tomoe back, either.”

“My wife died. She’s at peace. I’ll see her again, when the time is right.” He’d considered it, all right. He’d been on the verge of asking Jo, asking Rhea and Mia if they couldn’t, just _one more_ , to give Kaede her mother back, to give him his wife back.

He’d have been lying if he’d said Yuri was the reason he hadn’t. Truthfully, he didn’t know why he’d shown up at the triplets’ room in the middle of the night and begged them to leave town. Maybe it was the way Jo was wasting away, his lucid periods worse than the fits of crying and laughter. Maybe it was that it would be so easy for others to use him, the way his father had done. Maybe it was that the kids, for all their help, for all their kindness, were creepy as hell.

“We still owe them a lot.” Yuri nodded to the air high above the column, where a sleek figure dipped in delicate whirlwinds over the festivities, streaming ribbons and banners. Keith sketched out a little salute, then started shaking out his bag of confetti.

They hadn’t asked the children to bring Keith back. When Kotetsu and Yuri had arrived back at the wall, they’d found their friends beaten and wounded, but mostly alive. Mia, without being asked, had repaired Kaede’s broken leg, the bullet wounds Antonio had hardly noticed, Pao-Lin’s concussion. When Keith sat up, gave Barnaby a hug and assured his friend that he was fine, Kotetsu had thought nothing of it.

Only later did he learn what the children had done. Still, it was hard to be angry at them when he finally, _finally_ had some measure of peace in his city. Besides, just because _he_ didn’t believe it was right to come back after death didn’t mean it was his right to make that decision for other people.

“If it were me,” Yuri said, tightening his hand on Kotetsu’s, “I wouldn’t want you to bring me back.”

Kotetsu kissed him, slow, deep. He didn’t hold Yuri there, just in case the other man wanted to pull away.

Instead, Yuri wound his fingers through Kotetsu’s hair, holding him close, sliding his tongue against Kotetsu’s, pressing the older man back against the wall. Fireworks exploded behind him, lighting up the night sky with festive celebration.

“You’re right,” Yuri said into his ear, between little nibbles and sucks that coaxed a groan from Kotetsu. “Boyfriends is too young. I don’t want a boy. I want you.”

Kotetsu slid his hands up under Yuri’s shirt, ready to stop in a heartbeat if Yuri flinched. He met no resistance, only warm flesh, supple and pliant against his palms. “What about partners?”

“Do we own a law firm?” Unless Kotetsu was mistaken, Yuri was doing the same thing he was, pushing a little, drawing back to see his reaction, checking for fear or pain. Yuri was more ambitious, sliding his knee between Kotetsu’s legs, pressing against his growing erection.

“N-no.”

“Partners sounds too much like a business transaction. Are you sure it has to have a name?”

Carefully, Kotetsu reached up to Yuri’s hair, letting it run through his fingers. Yuri sighed, then turned and kissed his hand. “If you keep touching me like I’m made of glass, this is going to take forever.”

“What is?”

“You.” Yuri kissed him, then trailed his lips down to Kotetsu’s neck. “Me.” His fingers deftly unbuttoned Kotetsu’s shirt, sliding it off over his shoulders. “This.”

Kotetsu was never able to remember how they made it in to the bedroom. First they had been kissing—the next thing he knew, he was pressing Yuri down to the bed, hands working frantically on the other man’s belt, heart beating so fast he thought he’d die if he didn’t have Yuri right then.

“You’re letting me.” Yuri’s pants were in the way, so they had to go. Kotetsu reached down and grasped the other man’s cock, feeling it pulse hot in his hand. He ran calloused fingers up the shaft, squeezing just how he liked it on himself.

“Yes.” The word turned into a hiss at the end as Yuri bucked up into his hand, head falling back onto the pillows.

“Why?”

“Because.”

Kotetsu squeezed harder, and Yuri let out a breathless panting noise. “Okay, because I want to.”

“Not because you think I’ll break if you—“

“No. I know you’re stronger than that. I…” Yuri’s pale skin flushed red, across his cheeks and chest. “I want to.”

A drop of liquid beaded at the top of Yuri’s cock. Kotetsu took a deep breath, then leaned over and flicked his tongue across it. He fought back his initial reaction to pull away, sucking the head into his mouth, trying to analyze the taste. A little salty, though not as much as his own. Less viscous. Hint of bleach. Not altogether unpleasant, though the texture made him grimace a little.

What he really liked about tasting cock the first time was what it did to Yuri. The younger man’s hips jerked up, and he gasped, “Ko—Kotetsu!” in a tone of voice Kotetsu had never heard before.

Oh, he liked that.

He ran his tongue over the head again, letting his hands rest on Yuri’s thighs. There was definitely something enjoyable about the sensation, especially the way it made Yuri buck, writhe, and moan his name.

 _How many times has someone done this to him? Probably not very many,_ Kotetsu guessed, feeling a little less awkward by the second. He brought one hand up to grip Yuri’s shaft, focusing his attention on the head. That was where Yuri liked it, he knew from past handjobs. That little place on the underside of the head, where the glans came to a point—he dragged at that with the tip of his tongue, and Yuri actually _whimpered_.

Kotetsu looked up, met the other man’s eyes. He’d thought he’d be terrible at giving head, having never done it before. But the way Yuri was moaning, the way his hands were fisting in the blankets, the way the muscles in his thighs were bunching with the effort to _not_ thrust up and shove his length down Kotetsu’s throat— _maybe I’m doing okay after all._

Encouraged, Kotetsu took more in, and promptly gagged. He pulled back, eyes watering, sputtering a little, then immediately went back down before Yuri could say, “You don’t have—oh!”

 _That’s right, oh. Don’t care how many times I mess it up. I’ll get it right._

He noticed, with a mental note of satisfaction, that Yuri’s cock twitched hard every time he went down further, especially when he gagged. _Like that, do you? See how you like this._

The taste of Yuri filled his mouth, slipping down his throat, as he drove himself down over and over again, paying no heed to the mental alarms that said it was too much, too fast, too big. He wanted to see Yuri come undone for him, only him, wanted to watch him wriggle and hear him scream and look into his eyes when he came.

Yuri was trying to say something, lips moving, but no comprehensible sound escaped. He threw an arm across his face, but Kotetsu reached up and caught his wrist. _I want to see you. I want to see you fall apart. I want to see what you want to hide._

Maybe Yuri understood. Maybe he was just too turned-on to argue. Either way, he stared down at Kotetsu, meeting his eyes, as he cried out and bucked up, hitting the back of Kotetsu’s throat as he flooded his mouth.

Once again, it was the consistency rather than the taste that made Kotetsu want to pull away and spit, but he forced that urge down. There was something undeniably hot about feeling Yuri’s semen sliding down his throat, leaving hot wet trails down his chin as some spilled out of his mouth.

Yuri panted and trembled, and Kotetsu suckled on his softening dick with a sense of pride. _I did that. I did that to him. I made him feel that good._

All he wanted was more.

His clothes hit the floor before Yuri had summoned enough strength to raise his head, and he settled himself between the younger man’s legs. “I want you to like this,” Kotetsu told him seriously. “If you don’t—“

“You know I will.”

There—that was it, the first hint of the shame, the reluctance Kotetsu had been waiting for. As much as he wanted to keep Brandt and everything that night stood for out of their bed, Kotetsu was grateful for one thing. At least now, he knew what Yuri had feared. “Yuri,” he said, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face, “there’s nothing wrong with liking it. I do, don’t I?”

“That’s different. You don’t have to.”

“Neither do you.” Kotetsu kissed him on the cheek, mindful of what his mouth tasted like right now. “I know you think you do, but that’s just your body. I saw your eyes—look at me, okay? I saw your eyes when he was doing that to you. If I ever see them look like that when we’re together, I’ll leave. Not just stop, _leave_. Okay?”

Yuri’s eyes closed, and he gave a very small nod. When he opened them again, there was something younger, more vulnerable in them than Kotetsu had ever seen.

This, he could do. He smiled, kissed Yuri’s forehead this time, and reached for where he knew Yuri stashed the lube. “You want to do it yourself? So I don’t screw it up?”

Yuri shook his head, letting out a long breath. “I trust you.”

Those words had cost him something, said naked with his legs spread. Silently, Kotetsu vowed to be worthy of that trust.

He grabbed the lube from where they’d last stashed it, slathering a generous amount over his fingers, ignoring Yuri’s quirked eyebrow. _I’m going to make this as painless as possible, no matter how much you think you can take. I’m going to make you love every second of this, and only think of me._

As soon as his finger teased around that tight ring of muscle, Yuri’s body…changed. His spine arched, his legs spread wide, and a hungry, needy little sound escaped his throat. If Kotetsu hadn’t seen him do the exact same thing when forced, he’d have thought he’d done something really right.

He slid a finger inside, and ignored Yuri when he whined for more. _I know they taught you to like it rough. It’s okay to like that. But you have to see that there’s more._

He prepared Yuri slowly, gently, paying as little attention as possible to Yuri’s body, and as much as he could to Yuri’s face. He saw nervousness, acceptance, and just a hint of desire, but no fear. At least, not yet.

Kotetsu didn’t do as Yuri usually did, feeling around for that bundle of nerves that would turn his lover into jelly. This wasn’t about stimulating his body as fast as possible, forcing him into pleasure. This was about making sure that nothing went wrong.

“Kotetsu.”

Kotetsu looked up at his name, but Yuri had just said it for the sake of saying it. He smiled, rested his head back on the pillow, and repeated himself. “Kotetsu. Kotetsu.”

 _It’s all right._ Kotetsu said it with his kisses, scattered along Yuri’s face and neck and shoulder. He said it with the second finger, carefully stretching, preparing. By the time the third one went in, all he could read on Yuri’s face was arousal and anticipation.

Yuri started talking. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but he started talking as if he’d only now been given permission. “Please, Kotetsu, that’s enough, need, need you, want—know I do, really do, not just saying it because I have to please, Kotetsu, please, please—“

Kotetsu let him talk. Yuri would get him when he was good and ready. There were his own voices to keep at bay, after all. It wasn’t easy to keep himself under control when Yuri, lovely Yuri, was spread out beneath him begging to be taken, when Kotetsu could see the desire in the other man’s eyes to have Kotetsu inside of him.

Yuri looked up and met his eyes, and there was heat without fire, hunger without need, and said, simply, “Please, Kotetsu.” It was his own voice, not the hollow voice of the puppet Brandt had forced him to become.

Yuri was slick and tight around him, somehow so different from a woman while still being, as far as the sensations were concerned, the greatest thing he’d ever felt. It was the searing pressure, the hands that came up to tangle in his hair, the way Yuri whispered his name over and over again, arching up to meet his thrusts.

Kotetsu buried himself inside Yuri, sweat-slippery bodies pressed together. He braced his weight on his elbows, trying not to crush Yuri’s ribcage, still trying to memorize every detail of Yuri’s face when he was like this.

Yuri was flushed, breathless, moaning gutterally with every movement of their bodies, every pulse of Kotetsu’s cock deep inside him. His eyes were glazed, lips parted, hair falling all around his face, and his hands reached up to clench Kotetsu’s shoulders, pulling him down, silently begging for more.

“I want to see you like this all the time,” Kotetsu said. “I want to make you look like this all the time.”

Yuri nodded wildly. “Y-yes. Please!”

“I want you like this every day,” Kotetsu growled, and sat back on his knees, pulling Yuri up to straddle his lap.

Yuri braced his knees on the bed, sinking down hard onto Kotetsu’s cock, his mouth making a perfect “Oh.”

Kotetsu ran his hands up Yuri’s back, feeling the muscles contract, feeling the movements as he and Yuri moved together, burying his face in Yuri’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Yuri didn’t hesitate, riding him, nails digging into his shoulders, tossing his head back. “I—oh, _god_ —love you, Kotetsu, please, more, please!”

Kotetsu had no idea hearing those words would affect him as strongly as they did. He let out a strangled gasp and _thrust_ , fast, hardly remembering why he wanted to be gentle, only able to think of the man in his arms and how _much_ he wanted to be there, right there, exactly where he was, buried deep in his lover, in _Yuri_ —

Yuri’s back arched so far his hair touched the bed as warmth spilled over Kotetsu’s stomach, as Yuri clenched hard down around him, milking his cock tighter than ever. Kotetsu howled his release with a final deep slam into Yuri, arms wrapped tightly around the other man, holding him in place until his ragged breathing returned to normal.

 _I should really paint my ceiling, if this is going to be happening all the time,_ Kotetsu thought in a daze, staring up at the faded blue wood. _Maybe an interesting picture. Maybe Yuri will help._

“Kotetsu.”

Kotetsu looked to the side, to Yuri, who was looking right back at him with more kindness than he’d ever seen in those blue-green eyes. “Thank you. I…that’s exactly what I wanted it to be like. I was afraid it wouldn’t. I was afraid all you would see was—was what they—what they—“

“I know.” _You’ll like him, Tomoe. I think you’ll be surprised at how much you like him._

 _I know I was._

“It’s going to be like that every day, Yuri. No matter who’s on top.”

“Yes.” A small, almost nervous smile tugged at the corner of Yuri’s mouth. “Maybe…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe that would be easier if I moved in here.”

Kotetsu closed his eyes, smiling. “You might as well. Kaede’s already got Antonio and Edward cleaning out your place.”

“She what?”

“She wants you to know she’s not going to call you Mom.”

“You told her about us?”

“Yeah. She likes you, you know?” _They’re both going to like you, someday. Until then, Kaede and I will have to do._

Yuri was quiet for a moment. “What did you tell her about us?”

Kotetsu reached down, once more entertwining their fingers. “I said we were together. I couldn’t think of a better way to put it." 

“That’s because you have a miniscule vocabulary.”

Try as he might, Kotetsu couldn’t summon anything other than a weary chuckle. “Maybe you’re right, Yuri.”

They fell asleep, for the first time in a free country.

Together.


End file.
